


Ties That Bind

by peppernine



Category: One Piece
Genre: Abuse Mentions, Ace!Luffy, Alternating smut fluff and plot, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Masturbation, Swearing, implied Zoro/Luffy, zosan freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 11:38:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 80,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4434095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppernine/pseuds/peppernine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanji is drawn to a new customer at his restaurant, and finds himself continually involved with Zoro and his crew. Sanji can sense that Zoro is dangerous from the start, but when Zoro's yakuza past starts to catch up with him, Sanji finally finds something to fight for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> ~~hi all! this is shaping out to be a pretty long work, i've got about 7 chapters written so far and will post more as soon as I get the chance. i want to test the waters with the first couple chapters so please any advice or comments you have are much appreciated!!! this is my first fic so bear with me for now. the beginning is mostly fluff and angst things will start getting interesting soon i promise! x~~
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> wow. hi! If you're picking this up from the start, welcome. Originally, this was supposed to be a short-ish work. It's my first fic, and something i'd been sitting on for a long time. Now... now i'm over 50k and it's still going. 
> 
> Once you get through everything, let me know what you think so far! updates are semi-regular... i try to shoot for every 2 weeks.
> 
> **Chapters 1 and 2 are edited as of 1/1/16

“Fuck Man, you got any cookies?”

Sanji looks up from his work surface, stunned. He hadn’t had any customers today; in fact Sanji thought he had deliberately told the kid server to flip the sign when she was sent home early. At the serving counter stands a frustrated looking man, both hands are flat on the countertop and a wrinkle is making a permanent home in the middle of his forehead. He’s handsome and sturdily built, his biceps flex making his frustration clearer.

“Hello? You got any cookies? “ The man repeats himself. 

Sanji shakes his head to clear it. 

“How the… what the…. Excuse me??” He tries to stammer out some kind of answer, but the words don’t come easily in his flustered state. “Dude we’re closed for the day. Didn’t you read the sign?”

The other man shrugs, the wrinkle in his forehead becoming more pronounced by the second. 

“Man, gimme a chance, the hours online said you were still open, door was unlocked…. I’m just looking for some cookies. If I don’t bring cookies to this party tonight my friend will never forgive me. She just got a new job…” He’s rambling, Sanji assumes he must be in the doghouse for something in the past. He thinks the mystery man looks like he easily forgets things. He sighs. It wouldn’t be the first time Sanji has taken an order late in the day, and it probably won’t be the last. He’s planning a late night anyway, _what’s a few extra hours on an additional job_?

But he doesn’t want to seem like he’s easily swayed, cutting the intruder off mid-sentence Sanji argues back. 

“Hey man, I mean, I wish I could… I don’t have time for this...” he gestures emptily to the cakes sitting in front of him on the metal table. 

“Please. I can totally pay, more than enough for your time. Please...” The man probes further, “I _really_ need this.” There’s hesitation in the other man’s voice while Sanji feels eyes rove over his body. “…she uh, mentioned that this place was the best?” 

This strikes a nerve with Sanji. _Damn right my place is the best_ , he thinks. He’s pleased at the thought of someone asking for his products by name, it’s what he opened the shop for in the first place. Sanji mentally counts the hours he had left in the shop tonight; he’ll lose time in meal prep for another catering event tomorrow, but the time lost shouldn’t be too significant. It’ll take him about 2 hours to make the cookies and deliver them. If he comes in early tomorrow morning he can make up the time lost by helping out his new poor, idiot customer. _Hot_ , idiot customer. 

“Alright, alright, fine. Your pleas have reached my tender heart,” he finally replies, albeit a little acerbically. “What exactly do you need?” 

“Just cookies. I don’t know, maybe 2 dozen, 3?” The man at the counter is noticeably relieved. He relaxes his arms at the counter, and stretches. Sanji notices with admiration that he’s tall and muscular throughout his entire body, his quads bulge through his tight fitting jeans… Wait, stop following that train of thought! Don’t get distracted…Sanji says to himself. Again, he shakes his head to clear it. He dusts off his hands and moves to the small sink behind him. 

“Ok, well that’s about as helpful as spoiled milk. Come on idiot, think harder. How many people are going to be there? Is anybody allergic to anything?” Sanji is used to dealing with ambivalent customers. There are a lot of choices in the culinary world and it can be hard to make decisions. Occasionally Sanji won’t even take requests when he’s hired for larger catering events – it’s much easier for him to make educated decisions that it is to help someone else come to a conclusion. Sanji senses that this new customer will need more of Sanji’s expertise in planning than his technical skill in baking.

“Whatever, uh, I guess there’s going to be about 12 people there, and nobody is picky about anything, just whip something up and it’ll be perfect,” the intruder in Sanji’s shop smiles widely, his grin transforming his rugged features.

Sanji turns around to face the man and he registers the golden smile on his customer’s face. He then notices with a delayed shock that the other man’s hair is bright green and there are three earrings dangling from his left ear. 

“Alright fine, fine. Easy there buddy.” Sanji picks up two baking sheets from the cabinets, spinning one in each hand before laying them on the counter. “I don’t just ‘whip’ things up, what I do is basically art-- get that through your thick skull.” He continues moving around the small counter in the front of the shop, pulling down order forms and lists of ingredients but continues talking absentmindedly. 

“It sounds like you’ll probably need at least 3 dozen cookies then… I’m thinking a shortbread with raspberry glaze, and then you can never go wrong with a dark chocolate and sea salt.” Sanji doesn’t realize he’s said this all out loud at first. He starts to regret his smart mouth until he sees the other man grin at him. 

“Hey pal, I’m not your buddy. Whatever, that all sounds great I guess. What now?”

“Well you can either sit on your ass for the two hours it’ll take me to bake and box everything, or you can leave me the address and I’ll deliver everything. Plus a delivery fee of course.” _What the hell, I’m doing what I love might as well have a little fun with everything. It doesn’t hurt that if I deliver maybe I’ll get to see Mr. Punk Pierced Green Hair again._ Sanji tries to clear his head, _what am I thinking? Flirting with customers now? The old man would have me lying on the ground now, god rest his soul._

The Green Haired Man just laughs instead. 

“God you’re fucking hard to work with, how do you get any customers in the first place?” His voice is full of mirth but the slight laugh under his voice betrays how glad he is that the conversation is moving this direction. “Fine. You deliver them. Here,” he pauses to scrawl an address down on a piece of paper pulled from his pocket. “The party starts at 9 so no rush. Go ‘round the back entrance, and if you can’t find me ask for Zoro.”

“Like you’d be hard to find with that hair,” Sanji is thinking out loud again. “Zoro?”

“Are you this rude to all of your paying customers? That’s me, and don’t fucking question the hair. Now, cook, you think you’re up to this simple job?”

Sanji laughs, he’s enjoying customer service today. It’s not every customer that walks through his doors that can put up with his smart mouth. “Shut up weirdo, I’ll be fine. The question is whether this whole thing is worth my time.” 

The green haired man, Zoro, turns around and waves a hand over his shoulder. 

“Guess you’d better show up to find out cook!” He calls back as he walks out the door.

He’s gone and Sanji twitches a little. Was that a threat or was he flirting? Sanji doesn’t know, and he only cares a little bit. Ok, maybe he’s more than a little interested. But he can’t refuse a customer, it’s not his nature, and it never hurts to bring in extra business. Networking with 12 people is better than with none. He grabs eggs from the fridge and a bowl from the shelf back in the kitchen and gets to work. At least he can bake and think at the same time. _What the hell just happened_?


	2. Plus One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji meets the crew and sees Zoro again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you liked the first chapter. as always, comments are appreciated! As the fic moves on i'll keep updating the tags and warnings but i don't think there is anything in the first few chapters that needs tagging! x

Sanji arrives at the address Zoro gave him at 8:55. He’s right on time for the party to start, but for business he’s late. He hopes this really is a quiet affair, it would be shameful to start off on the wrong foot… not that being late is the worst thing he could be. He’s about to knock on the front door when a loud crash from the back of the house reminds him of another of Zoro’s instructions: head to the back. 

He walks slowly, balancing the three large boxes in both hands. He heads around the house following a small paved walkway. A radio starts up somewhere and a pulsing beat leaks out of the small yard in front of him. A large man pops up suddenly in front of him and Sanji has to twirl gracefully to avoid, quite literally, tossing his cookies. 

“Whoa there! I’m super sorry about that! Wait, who are you?” The large man yells in Sanji’s general direction with a large confused expression 

“Uh, hi. I’m looking for Zoro?” Sanji asks, slightly awkwardly. He wasn’t expecting to have to explain his presence so quickly and in such distress. Usually he’s set up and serving food before people stop to question his sudden appearance – one of the trademarks of a good chef. 

“ZORO BRO, SOME GUY IS HERE FOR YOU!” Sanji winces slightly as the tall man’s voice booms suddenly. 

“Oi, Franky, calm down I’m right here, no need to get so excited.” The green haired man suddenly appears from the shadowy back yard. 

“Shit man sorry, in the spirit of the party and everything,” the man named Franky says back. “Didn’t know we were bringing plus ones though!” 

“He’s not my ‘plus one’ Franky, who would want to invite a stupid bastard like this guy?” Although the words are scathing, a grin on Zoro’s face lets Sanji know it’s nothing more than playful banter. 

“Hey watch it asshole. Like I’d be caught dead anywhere with you,” Sanji smirks and shifts the boxes of cookies to his opposite hand. 

“He’s got food for Nami!” Zoro says to no one in particular, as if he’d just remember the point of Sanji’s arrival. 

“Uh, it’s not food, it’s just cookies, remember when you stood in my shop with no idea how to properly order food?” Sanji grumbles, although he is pleased at the thought of being mistaken as the green haired fools date, _that makes it sound like he’s…_ no, he cuts that thought off. He’s working tonight after all. 

“Anyway Mr. Zoro,” and here Sanji places as much disdain as he can into the name, “three dozen cookies as ordered and delivered on time.” Sanji starts to approach the idea of the cost of this unexpected catering adventure when he’s cut short by a high-pitched squeal from behind him. 

“AHH! Zoro, you brought me cookies for my party! I’m so happy, you shouldn’t have!” A woman appears suddenly in the backyard, hands braced vivaciously against her hips.  
“You would have tried to kill me if I didn’t bring them, witch.” Sanji hears Zoro mumble under his breath

Sanji shudders at the idea of this lovely women appearing in front of him being called a witch. No lady deserves such harsh words. He chooses to ignore the mumblings of the green haired idiot and tries to recall if any details were mentioned about the recipient of his baking expertise. 

“You must be Nami! You look absolutely radiant! Three dozen cookies for your lovely self, hand delivered.”

The woman known as Nami squeals again, and Sanji notices how her lovely red hair catches the light as it bounces lightly on her shoulders. 

“Well, now you don’t owe me anything for that last favor! And thank you….?” Nami pauses, and Sanji realizes this is where he is supposed to introduce himself. _The stupid marimo customer hustled me, this lovely woman obviously did not ask for me by name._ That’s what Sanji gets for being the only walk in friendly catering shop in town. 

“I’m Sanji, I own All Blue Catering and Deli in town. Zoro here ordered the cookies today, but had I known I would be baking for such lovely company I might have come up with something a little more special.” Sanji is laying the compliments on thick, if only to ignore how close the idiot in question is standing next to him. He moves then and places the boxes on the table closest to him, untying the bows holding the boxes closed and laying out the serving plates. Nami and another woman with raven black hair sidle up to the table and take one of each type of cookie. Sanji steps aside to give the partygoers some room as he plates the dessert. It’s lucky he made that move as he is very nearly knocked to the ground by another man, shorter this time, who is yelling nonsensically about food. 

“Luffy!” the red hair yells, “My party, my cookies, wait your turn!” 

“Ah Nami, but I’m hungry!” The newcomer moves aside not bothering to hide his dejection, although Sanji watches him sneak three cookies off the table when Nami isn’t looking. 

“All Blue, you said?” This time Nami is speaking directly to Sanji. “I’ve heard of you. There was an article recently about your place. I didn’t realize you’d opened already!”

Sanji sighs. He’s got to work on getting the word out there about his business. If people don’t realize he’s open he won’t get any orders. His train of thought is suddenly interrupted. 

“Oh my GOD. These... These are delicious! How is it possible to bake something so absolutely delectable? Sanji, you made these? You are unbelievably talented.” Sanji watches as Nami takes another bite of the cookie; her eyes roll in delight. 

Sanji smiles wide at the compliment; nothing is better than hearing compliments about his food. “Oh it’s nothing, a little bit of love as an ingredient goes a long way,” he says. 

Behind him, Zoro chokes on his cookie. 

“Are you wasting the food that you ordered from me?” Sanji spits as he turns around glaring at the offender. Zoro doesn’t respond, only glares back and tries to swallow the rest of his food. 

Sanji moves off to the side as the party guests begin to talk amongst themselves. He catches the occasional compliment about his baking and is more than happy to stand and give his baking the exposure it deserves. He catches snippets of conversation and gradually learns everybody’s names and the reason for the party tonight. Nami has just received a huge promotion at the lab she works in, although Sanji is unsure exactly what she studies. Along with the promotion comes a rather large grant and the red head is sure that her research project will finally be getting some results. Usopp, the quiet dark skinned man offers his congratulations to the host and then offers to do any PR work when the time comes for project completion. Apparently the man is in advertising and human resources; Sanji thinks to himself that he may get in touch with him later for help with increasing All Blue’s business. Robin is the dark haired woman Sanji met earlier, she and Nami were roommates in college for a while. Robin is newly engaged to Franky, the man who stopped Sanji at the start of the night. Sanji thinks he is an engineer of some sort. Based on the huddle at the back of the yard and the whispers coming from the large man, Sanji isn’t sure that what he does is entirely legal. 

Suddenly the short man who almost knocked Sanji off his feet earlier is right next to Sanji talking about how fantastic the food is, and will Sanji cater for their next party? Also how good Sanji is at baking, and also what’s your story? Sanji is overwhelmed by the man’s enthusiasm and lights a cigarette to calm his nerves. Luffy, as Sanji believes he is called, is still hammering on about how great the cookies were and, “I know a lot of people that would kill to have a suitable caterer available, do you mind if I tell them about you? Man, you’re gonna have to be a part of the crew eventually if I have my way, I have never tasted anything so delicious and I eat a lot, trust me.” 

Sanji doubts this last revelation a little bit as the man next to him is skinny and lithe but he is too pleased at the idea of networking that he doesn’t ponder over it. Gradually Sanji is pulled into conversation with several different people. Nobody mentions his presence as an intrusion and he is even offered several beers as the night goes on. He begins to feel comfortable at the party, which is strange. Everyone around him is a complete stranger, but still he can’t deny he feels almost completely at ease. When Nami announces that she’s tired and has to be at the lab early for paperwork, Sanji leaves the party with the promise to cater the next get-together and with several phone numbers in his pocket. Sanji notices the green haired man staring at him as he leaves the party and chooses to flash a wink in Zoro’s direction; Sanji is also certain that he didn’t imagine the man blushing, his red face clashing horribly with his green hair. It isn’t until Sanji walks in through the front door of his apartment that he realizes he never got paid for the evening. _Oh well, he thinks, just another reason to see that shitty guy again._

Which is a train of thought that doesn't make complete sense to Sanji, but he doesn't fight it.


	3. The Monster Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A third encounter with the idiot green haired man leaves Sanji breathless.

The next morning the bell attached to All Blue’s front door rings while Sanji is up to his elbows in flour. He’s baking bread for the day’s sandwiches and doesn’t hear that he has a customer until a loud voice calls from the front. 

“Oi, lousy caterer, you forgot something at the party last night!”

 _Shit_. Sanji thinks. _I am in no mood to deal with this guy Zoro right now_. The one server/chef that Sanji keeps on staff was late and Sanji has been dealing with the backorder all morning long. He’s also, unbelievably so, managed to get flour down the front of his nice button down shirt, and now he’s going to have to deal with a green haired man that is quickly growing on Sanji’s nerves and what he thinks may be his heart. 

“I did not just hear you call me a lousy caterer. Do you have moss for brains? Is that any way to talk to the man who saved your sorry ass at a party yesterday?” Sanji saunters toward the front of the shop carefully. At first he is worried that he is pushing Zoro too far, that he is being too rude too fast. But a second look at the extremely well built man and Sanji realizes that Zoro is smiling back. _My god he’s built like Zeus…wait, no stop thinking about this!_

“Ha, don’t think you’re so special! You’re just lucky I chose this crappy place to take my business. After all look at how busy you are this morning!” Zoro gestures to the empty tables in All Blue. There is only one customer, a woman sitting in the far back corner eating a breakfast sandwich. 

“It’s a catering shop you idiot. Whatever, I still blame you for forgetting to pay me. It’s a miracle you managed to find the shop again with a skull as thick as yours must be.” Sanji sees Zoro actually blush and glare at this last part but the green haired man quickly recovers. It seems like Sanji may have actually hit a nerve and he files away this small piece of information with the other facts he knows about the man. This amounts to exactly two facts: the man is hot, and he didn’t like the last insult Sanji doled out. 

“You’re just lucky I’m an honest man, like I would ever back out of a business deal. Besides, I have orders from Nami to keep the crew in your good graces.” Zoro shrugs and reaches into his back pocket pulling out a thick but battered wallet. 

“How does a beautiful woman like Nami end up with such a numbskull as yourself? And as if I could ever deny an request from such a lovely human.” Sanji says this last sentence quietly as Zoro begins to talk over him.

“What no, Nami and I are not together, just stop being such a love struck dummy. Now, what do I owe you?” 

Sanji again has received a valuable piece of information: Zoro is not dating Nami. Is it possible that this beautiful man is single? Sanji didn’t see anyone particularly close to Zoro at the party last night, and he feels pretty sure that if the man were seriously involved, his partner would have been at the party. After all, Franky and Robin were both present, and Usopp had brought his girlfriend Kaya. He sighs. I can’t be entertaining this I don’t have time for anything or anyone. Sanji turns to the register on the counter, standing directly in front of Zoro. “For three dozen cookies, plus delivery, the total comes to $150.” He’s tempted to give the man a discount, but puts the business side of himself first. 

Zoro smiles and hands Sanji a thick black credit card. “That’s cheaper than I was expecting honestly. You take Belis?”

Sanji nods and takes the card from the man. He runs the total through the card machine and swipes the card down its length. He waits a few moments while a receipt prints and hands it to the man in front of him to sign. Taking back the receipt, he places it under the cash drawer in the till. 

“Alright everything’s all set Mr. Zoro. I don’t suppose I have to thank you for you patronage?” 

Sanji is rewarded with a small laugh from Zoro. “Honestly I’d be embarrassed for you if you did, but thanks though. Guess I’ll see you around.” Zoro moves toward All Blue’s exit waving a hand in the air. Sanji suddenly worries this will be the last time he will see the rude, green haired man. 

“Oh hey wait!” 

Zoro turns around one hand on the door handle. There is an awkward pause; Sanji doesn’t have a good reason for stopping Zoro from leaving. 

“I’m sorry, uh, actually, I was talking to that guy, Luffy?” Sanji babbles, “He mentioned that he wanted my info for future catering events and I told him I’d be glad to help at the next party or something. Er, here is my number, do you think you could pass it on?” Sanji scrambles to find a business card and pen in the till, and quickly scratches his number down on the piece of paper. He neglects to mention that Luffy already has his number, but this is not a fact he’s willing to share with the other man. 

“Ha, be careful what you offer to do for that man. He will quite literally eat you out of house and home. He also doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. But sure, why not? I have little doubt you’ll be hearing from one of us soon.” Zoro steps forward and takes the business card from Sanji’s hand, their hands grazing for a fraction of a second. Sanji shivers. Zoro carefully tucks the card into his worn-out wallet possibly, Sanji thinks, taking just a little bit too long to complete the task. “Alright then cook, Sanji wasn’t it? I’ll pass this on. See you later!” Zoro walks quickly out the door. Sanji registers him turning left, then walking in front of the door again in the opposite direction a moment later. Soon he hears the peel of a motorbike racing down the street. 

Sanji shudders silently. The whole encounter struck him as weird. It’s not that he isn’t attracted to the man; Sanji would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to seeing Zoro again. Nor did the man’s words or actions bother him. No, Sanji decides, it was the atmosphere. Zoro was a calm and collected man, but something else nagged at Sanji. _That’s it_ , Sanji realizes and he recalls how he felt when their hands brushed together, _he’s dangerous somehow_.


	4. A Lesson In Fighting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji learns more about Zoro, and becomes increasingly attracted to the man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter! i'll update soon after suggestions and comments from people! and as a side note, i have no idea how Kendo actually works. everything i wrote in this chapter is from wikipedia and youtube, PLEASE let me know if anything is wrong! x

**Two Weeks Later**

Sanji almost drops the platter he’s holding when he’s startled by the sound of his phone ringing. He balances the platter on one hand and carefully shoves the food into the back of his car while looking at the screen of his phone. It’s an unregistered number and Sanji assumes it’s business. 

“This is Sanji from All Blue Catering, how can I be of service today?”

A familiar voice rings out of the phone’s speaker “You answer the phone like that for all your customers shit cook? No wonder business is slow for you.” 

Sanji makes a mental note to store the number in his phone under "Moss Monster" and replies back, “Well if it isn’t grass for brains, I was beginning to think I’d scared you off!” 

“Well your cooking sucks but at least you’re not senile. I hope I’m not interrupting your very serious baking time.” There is a scuffle in the background and Sanji gets the distinct impression that another person has just hit Zoro. 

Sanji purrs back into the phone, “I thought you said you were an honest man? What is this slander about my cooking? You know you liked it. But to what do I owe the distinct pleasure of hearing your grating voice today?” Sanji sits down in his car but makes no move to begin his delivery; he wants to focus all of his attention on this conversation. It’s so rare that he finds someone he can gleefully banter with. 

“Ha ha keep telling yourself that you’re great, cook. Maybe one day you can convince someone else. I’ve got another favor to ask. Business for you, of course.” 

Sanji smiles. This relationship, or whatever it can be called, with Zoro is proving to be very lucrative. 

Zoro continues on the phone, “my dojo is having a tournament and awards ceremony in a few weeks. I promised the kids a special treat and I know the parents would be looking forward to a social, so what do you think about catering the whole event? I mean, of course I was going to just go to the store but I’d love to see you embarrass yourself in the community. Ya know, since you’re just starting out with your shop and a beginner.” 

Sanji smiles at the backhanded comment. _A dojo? That would explain his absurd muscle mass_ , he thinks to himself. “Well I suppose I couldn’t possible let some poor kids be subject to your rude manners at an event like that. If you think you can find it again, why don’t you shop by the shop sometime this week for planning purposes? Maybe I can finally teach you how to properly order food.” 

He hears the man on the other side of the phone chuckle. “Hmm and here I thought I had just imagined your rudeness the first time I met you, I guess I should know better than to expect anything good coming from you, what with your shit cooking and all. But I did read something once that kids don’t have developed taste buds so maybe they won’t notice. Are you free on Friday?”

Sanji scoffs, “You read an article? Maybe you’re not as mentally deficient as you look! And, I’ve got an event early Friday morning but stop by after 1pm. Maybe bring Nami so someone knows what they’re doing.”

“Oh trust me, I know exactly what I’m getting myself into. I’ll see you then, asshole.” The phone call ends abruptly. Sanji sits in the front seat and smirks to himself as he turns the ignition. Now he’s got another business opportunity, and a chance to see Zoro again. Why does he want to see him so badly? 

 

***

Sanji had arrived at the dojo early, wanting to scope out where the food would be served and allowing time for him to run back to the shop if needed. Zoro was nowhere to be found and instead Sanji found himself in the company of a meek but interesting woman. Her name was…. Tasha? He would have been paying more attention to the lady at his side but he found himself distracted by the sheer amount of work in front of him. The hall where the social and ceremony would be held had not been set up, and Sanji had found himself arranging tables and working on place settings for the first hour of his afternoon. He then set to work organizing the various chafing dishes and serving utensils, laying out each culinary creating in a specific order which would highlight not only the foods flavor but also it’s nutritional content. Fresh, homemade bread sat at the head of the table in multiple baskets, followed by a fresh house salad, then the chicken and beef entrées and several sides to choose from. 

Zoro had said that the Dojo had a large student population and since parents were also invited to the event Sanji had wanted to make sure that not only was there enough food to satisfy such a large crowd, but that there was enough variety to ensure everyone enjoyed their meals. Just as Sanji was putting the finishing touches on the salad dressings and making sure all of the chafing flames were at the right level, Zoro walked in through the door. 

“Mmm. It’s too bad your food doesn’t taste as good as it smells, then you might actually be popular or something.” Zoro says walking towards Sanji. 

“Or something. It’s not like you hired me specifically to cook or anything asshole.”

“Have you ever noticed how curly your eyebrows are? I’ve never really looked, but damn, those are certainly…unique” 

“Watch yourself algae brain or you might find yourself with a very nice case of food poisoning soon.” Sanji can feel his cheeks feeling red and if he is being honest with himself he can’t tell whether it’s from embarrassment or anger. He certainly can’t help the way his eyebrows grow. 

Zoro chuckles at this last remark, “Now wouldn’t that be against some kind of chef code? Anyway, come here I want to show you the reason why you’re here today. It’ll only take a couple of minutes” he adds in response to Sanji knitting his eyebrows together; the food can’t be left alone for too long. He pulls Sanji sharply by the wrist and drags him out the door to the event hall. Sanji finds himself following Zoro through a maze of halls taking various turns. In fact, Sanji is sure they’ve walked down several hallways more than once. 

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” 

The green haired man looks behind him with a scowl on his face, his earrings swinging in the air as he looks back towards Sanji, “Of course, I work here. I know this place… decently well.” Sanji can only laugh; he’s never met someone so directionally challenged before. 

Soon the sound of a cheering crowd mixed with various yells and cries fills the hallways they are walking down. Sanji notices that Zoro perks up at the sound, it seems like he’s finally found where they are supposed to be going. Sanji follows the sound, unsure where the marimo is leading him. 

Finally Zoro pushes through a wide set of double doors and both men step into a wide gym area. The floor is wooden and springy. Various people are seated along the side of the room, but most notable is a large square in the middle of the room where two diminutive figures are dancing around in large capes brandishing wooden swords. Sanji is stunned, he didn’t know what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t this. He jumps as a man in a suit inside the square raises a red handkerchief and the spectators let out a loud cheer. 

“What… what is this?” Sanji leans over to yell in Zoro’s ear. 

“It’s a kendo match!” Sanji must still have a confused look on his face because Zoro continues, “have you never watched kendo before?! Oh man, this is crazy! This is what I teach! Ok…” Zoro then proceeds to tell Sanji the rudimentary points of Kendo. 

Sanji learns that the robes and freakish masks the fighters are wearing are traditional protective gear. Half paying attention to Zoro, half watching the match, he thinks the purpose is for one fighter to hit his sword, or Shinai as Zoro corrects, on the top of the mask (“No its called a Men, stupid cook”), or the padded gloves each fighter wears (“I keep telling you the names of this stuff. The gloves are called kote at least try to remember”). Zoro continues to elaborate that the rules are a little more complicated than that and how each of his students undergoes years of training to be able to compete at any level. The fighters in the square are currently locked together, their swords (‘SHINAI!”), meeting in the middle and only their feet betray the test of wits and strength that is occurring. The competitors continue to circle each other in this manner with one fighter occasionally making a slight movement only to be counteracted by the opponent. 

Sanji thinks that Zoro is still talking, rambling even, about his position as a teacher and the finer points of certain kata but Sanji isn’t paying attention. He is absolutely absorbed in the fighting spirit and concentration that is engulfing the room. He doesn’t really know how to judge the match in any way, shape, or form, but he can’t help but focus on the beauty of the circling figures, the minute and fast movements each competitor makes. Each fighter makes an occasional yell as they attempt to score a point and Sanji finds himself silently cheering on both people in the ring, come on, show him what you’re made of! A referee in the middle raises a red handkerchief again and the room erupts in cheers. The competitors move to marked spots on the floor, sink to their knees with their shinai pointed backwards, make a slight bow, stand and walk backwards out of the square. It takes Sanji a moment to realize what has happened: the fight is over. 

He looks at the man next to him; Zoro is on his feet clapping and cheering. Sanji can see the pride and admiration in his face. _He likes this place, he must be a great teacher_. Zoro is obviously in his element, but he seems to remember the other man standing next to him. 

“Oi cook, that’s the end of the match. What did you think? Wasn’t Coby amazing?”

“Uh yeah! From what I could tell, but I’m not sure I’m qualified to judge anything yet.” And honestly, he wasn’t even sure who Coby was. 

“Haha don’t worry, nobody picks up kendo immediately. I have to go say a few words and present the victors before everybody heads down to eat. Do you think you can find your way back to the event hall? I mean, you can also stay here and watch… it’s up to you.”

Sanji smiles. The man isn’t his usual composed self. Zoro seems too excited about the results of the competition. He figures that the green haired man has a few responsibilities to take care of and besides Sanji needs to check on his food, he doesn’t need to be hanging around the other man all day. 

“I can probably find my way back better than you could. I’ll be fine, go congratulate your students.”

Sanji heads out of the gym and wanders back through the hallways. As he reaches the event halls to double check the food a thought occurs to him: _Zoro was cute in his passion for this place. Shit, he's fine. He's dedicated, and strong, and obviously knows how to teach little kids. Is there anything that isn't perfect about this guy?_.


	5. Metaphorical Light

“Merde!” Sanji shouts.

He’s got a crush on a fucker with green hair and earrings. 

After the dojo awards and ceremony, Zoro invited Sanji back to Nami’s house for another get together. “Just a few beers and a fire, nothing major,” Zoro had promised. _Ha. Ha. Nothing major sure. Like the whole fact I have a crush isn’t fucking major. A crush! What is this, high school?_

Sanji is pacing in his apartment and he doesn’t know what to do. On the one hand he would like to shower to rid himself of the smell of cooking all day. On the other, he feels like he should probably bring something to the party tonight. He isn’t really friends with Zoro, Nami, and the others, and he doesn’t want to feel like an intruder. On top of that, Sanji doesn’t know what to fucking wear and he has at most an hour and a half before he has to leave or he’ll risk being more than fashionably late. 

“Merde!” He shouts again and kicks the bedside table causing his alarm clock to fall off. 

He bends over to pick up the clock and sets it back on the nightstands as he sits on the side of the bed. He closes his eyes and tries to even out his breathing. _It’s not that big of a deal. You can go to the party tonight enjoy speaking to people who aren’t irritating customers, leave and then never see Zoro or his shitty smug face again. No need to fuss over a stupid crush, just forget about him and his idiotic green hair, and his rippling biceps, and the way his shirt hugs his waist and…_

Sanji can’t control the images of Zoro that flood through his mind. In the end, an uncomfortable tightness in his slacks helps him decide on a cold shower first. 

***  
Sanji arrives at Nami’s house later than he would have liked, but definitely not late. He grabs the snacks he had prepared earlier and heads toward the backyard. Already he can hear loud raucous voices and laughing, as he approaches the back gate he can see the flicker of a fire illuminating several people sitting on the grass. He sighs thankfully as he notices that he did not overdress in jeans and a button down. 

“Hi everyone!”

“Sanji! You came I’m so glad!” Nami stands up and bounces toward him. “You’re almost officially part of the crew now! Oh here let me take these, you didn’t have to bring snacks y’know!” Nami takes the boxes from his hands and leads Sanji towards an open spot around the fire. He sits cross-legged between Robin and Luffy as Nami begins to pass around the pretzel snacks Sanji prepared. He hears sounds of contentment and the occasional “YUMM!” as people start eating. Franky hands Sanji an open beer bottle and Sanji tries to pay attention to Usopp as he relates some story about a horrible customer and his attempts to salvage the entire piece of artwork. 

Sanji lazily scans around the fire and notices several new faces he hasn’t seen before. There is one man in a spotted black and white baseball cap with heavy bags under his eyes. He sits sullen and silent while everyone else is laughing at Usopp and Luffy. The other newcomer, although Sanji supposes he is technically the newcomer, looks too young for the solo cup in his hand, and the pink t-shirt he is wearing is far too big for his small and youthful frame.

Sanji spots Zoro leaning against a stack of pillows. He is dressed in a plain white tee, and even more fit than Sanji could have imagined: his abs perfectly chiseled and every muscle in his chest absurdly defined through the thin cotton of the shirt. Sanji can see the rise and fall of Zoro’s chest with his breaths, causing Sanji’s eyes to trail dangerously low along the waistband of Zoro’s jeans. _He looks asleep, like Adam sleeping in the Garden of Eden,_ but no, Zoro’s eyes open as Franky leans over to tell him a joke. Zoro looks up and Sanji catches his eye, trying to desperately to make it look like he wasn’t staring; he’s not sure he’s successful. Sanji waves silently to the green haired man in mutual acknowledgement. _Well, here I am_ , he thinks. 

The conversation continues around the fire for some time. Sanji hates to admit it, but he’s comfortable hanging out with his new friends. Sanji tries and fails to remember the last time he had a night out with other people he didn’t work with. The others seem to readily accept him and he joins in the various discussions learning more and more about his new friends. _Don’t get too attached_ , he tries to remind himself, _tomorrow you’re going to try and forget all about that stupid pierced punk and go back to your normal life. Just forget the way his shoulders fill out his shirt…_

Still Sanji can’t deny it. He is having a great time. To distract himself from Zoro, he even joins Usopp, Franky, and Luffy in a rowdy drunken conga line around the backyard. 

Sanji finishes his third beer and, like the gentlemen he is, volunteers to grab another for him and the others. He walks into Nami’s house, but before he reaches the fridge he leans across the counter in the kitchen and takes several deep breaths. He is buzzed and his concentration is shot: the man who invited him to the party is far too hot and much more distracting that he can handle. _Ugh his hips look like they are stupidly easy to grab. And the way the firelight hits his face make his lips so pronounced._ Sanji tries to focus himself as images of him kissing the other man flood his mind. He silently prays that he doesn’t do anything stupid tonight. Finally he opens the refrigerator and steps back outside to the party with several beers in his hand. He thinks that he’s maybe not quite ready to rejoin the party and an itch in his fingers for a cigarette provides a ready excuse. He apologizes to Nami for leaving her and then heads out the back yard. He sits on the front stoop of the house and pulls out a packet of cigarettes. He is patting through his pockets trying to find a lighter when a silky voice behind him startles him. 

“Need a light?” Robin steps up onto the front porch to join him, a purple Bic lighter in her hands. Sanji takes the lighter gratefully, and sucks lightly on the cigarette as he strikes the flame. He hands the lighter back to Robin and slowly lets out a stream of smoke, relaxing as the nicotine quickly hits his system. 

“Are you enjoying yourself, Sanji? You seem a little on edge tonight.” Robin seats herself gracefully on the step. 

“Yes of course my dear. It’s just the usual awkwardness of being introduced to a new group of people, please don’t trouble yourself.” Sanji taps his cigarette lightly on the step next to him. 

“And I don’t suppose your awkwardness has anything to do with a certain green haired man does it?” Robin purrs. 

Sanji chokes as he inhales, and tries to cough out the smoke that stuck in his throat. “What? No, of course not!”

Robin remains silent next to him, the question hanging uncomfortably between them. 

“I was trying very hard not to make it obvious, am I that easily read?” 

At this Robin chuckles, “Don’t worry Sanji, you’re an interesting read but definitely not an easy one. I just enjoy wrangling secrets from people. But you ARE the first new person introduced to the group in four months, and the first new person to join us at two different parties since the group adopted Tony. You’re a novelty at this point and frankly you’re quite fun to watch. Though, if you are trying to be subtle, you might want to tone down the intense looks you’ve been throwing at Zoro all night.”

Sanji chuckles. Robin is incredibly, almost freakishly, astute. Behind her blinding beauty is an incredibly intelligent mind. Sanji would never have considered himself easy to read, but the woman next to him has picked up exactly what had been on his mind all night. And likewise, he can’t deny that Zoro had held most of the attention throughout the night. He takes two more puffs on his cigarette and stubs it out on the cement. 

“It’s eerie how one man be can so attractive and at the same time, annoy me in every way possible,” Sanji finally confesses. 

“He does have an amazing ability to try one’s patience,” Robin admits. 

“Oh well. I don’t expect anything out of it. He invited me and it would have been rude to refuse. I’m interested but not desperate by any means. Besides, he certainly hasn’t shown any interest.” Sanji stands up and offers a hand to Robin, who elegantly accepts it. She takes Sanji’s proffered arm and allows him to escort her to the backyard. 

“Don’t be so sure Sanji. Zoro has admitted to me that he has been quite lonely lately. He is just a particularly dense man when it comes to showing what’s on his mind.” Robin opens the back gate and passes through as Sanji holds it open. 

He and Robin rejoin the group. Luffy is showing off some sort of freakish flexibility as he and Franky jokingly reenact some event that occurred a few weeks ago. 

Sanji ruminates on what Robin said to him. _The idiot did hire me again today. Maybe there’s more to this story. If he is as lonely as Robin said, and if she didn’t balk at the idea of me being interested in the man… maybe there’s a chance._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another update! as always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! i think im going to shoot for updating every 4-5 days but i'll be moving soon so no telling how well that schedule will work out. if there's anything you'd like to see let me know! There's about another two chapters of angst coming, and then i promise things will.. as they say... heat up. x


	6. Dinner or Date?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here have cute sanji cooking and grumpy zoro. this is the last short chapter before things start getting really interesting. as always, i truly appreciate any questions, comments, concerns, and compliments. also, i don't speak french, so if you know of a better way to swear, let me know! x

_Goddamnit, shit, fucking piss on a brick._

Sanji has been running late all day. His alarm clock didn’t ring at the appropriate time, apparently not having survived its fall the previous day. His coffee machine also decided to be on the fritz and he ended up having to grab for coffee before he could start cooking, but not before the lady in line at the coffee shop decided to stop and chat about the weather, and her cats, and her new grandchild… Sanji was not having a good morning. 

His afternoon was not much better. The lunch crowd was slightly bigger than expected and he had been running back and forth with no chance to catch up. Having no luck with electronics today, several of Sanji’s heating lamps had decided to go out causing him to have to close up shop while he ran to a supply store to purchase more. Of course, construction caused him to have to take a detour and the trip that should have taken 15 minutes lasted an hour. 

To round out his especially bad day, a specific green hair idiot just walked through the front door of All Blue. 

_Merde! Fils de pute! C’est des conneries!_

Sanji turns around to face Zoro, but says nothing hoping the stern look on his face won’t reveal that since Zoro is the only customer in the shop, Sanji is definitely itching to slam him against the wall and force his lips against Zoro’s. 

Zoro sashays toward the serving counter and stands directly in front of Sanji. 

“So I heard lunch here isn’t terrible. What exactly are my chances of getting food poisoning?”

Sanji ignores the jibe, instead he points to a sign behind him that says **WE HAVE THE RIGHT TO REFUSE SERVICE.**

“Ha. Ha. No seriously, can I get a menu in this fucking place? I’m starved, haven’t eaten since dinner last night.” Zoro leans against the serving counter. Sanji can smell Zoro from where he stands: light cologne musk, a soft hint of sweat and sun, and something else that Sanji thinks is coffee. 

Sanji leans back moving out of reach of Zoro hoping to dampen some of the electricity flowing through his veins. 

“Sit your ass down marimo, I don’t think you’re quite intelligent to pick something out for yourself. I’ll bring it around for you. It’s stupid to skip breakfast by the way, might kill off what little brain cells you’ve got left.” 

Zoro doesn’t reply to the insult, simple grumbles, “it’s not like I had a choice.” 

As Sanji walks back to the kitchen he wonders exactly what caused to Zoro to a) skip breakfast, something unforgivable in Sanji’s book, b) walk into his shop of all places, and c) exactly what Zoro likes to eat. It’s a hot day so Sanji decides on something light and fresh, probably lots of vegetables, but heavy on protein both due to Zoro’s muscle mass and the lack of food he’s eaten today. Ideally Sanji would prepare a salad of lentils, spinach, bulgur wheat, and light vinaigrette but somehow he’s not sure Zoro would appreciate the light taste of that concoction. He puzzles over the various memorized menus seared on the inside of his brain. It also has to be something quick and easy to prepare. He walks outside the window and yells to Zoro. 

“Hey anything you’re not particularly fond of?”

The other man grumbles in reply, “Not a whole lot. I don’t like sweet things very much…. that’s all I can think of for now.” Sanji thinks he might be napping. 

Something quick, easy, with the leftovers in the kitchen... His brain finally latches on an idea. He can make a salmon pasta salad with a pesto base, possibly even add asparagus if he has any left over. He checks the cabinets and refrigerator and manages to pull all of the ingredients he had been hoping for. He boils water while thinly slicing the smoked salmon. He hums as he cooks the pasta simultaneously roasting asparagus in butter and olive oil. He drains the pasta over cold water, adds the salmon and asparagus and places all of it in the fridge to cool while he prepares the pesto. Basil, garlic, pine nuts and Parmesan are thrown together in a bowl and while Sanji dutifully whips the mixture he drizzles olive oil throughout. Finally he pulls out the chilled pasta and carefully arranges everything in a wide rimmed pasta bowl. He grabs some sparkling water and heads out to deliver the plate to Zoro. 

Sanji was right, the other man is napping. He has fallen asleep with his head in his hand resting his elbow against his chest, the other arm draped across his ribcage for support. Zoro is slumped down into the chair, and Sanji watches his chest rise and fall with deep and even breaths. Sanji takes this opportunity to get closer to the other man and get a good look at him. As he stands behind him, Sanji can see that Zoro’s skin has been tanned by the sun, probably from working outside. Every inch of the man is trim and muscled, and as Sanji looks closer he notices that the man possesses a multitude of scars. There is a round one on his neck below his ear just underneath his hairline and Sanji can see several small scars running along both of his arms. Most noticeably, a deep jagged scar peeks out of the man’s collar, Sanji suspects it runs long-- possibly down to his hip. His hips are splayed open, and Sanji finds himself thinking that it looks like the perfect place to sit upon, but no, he quickly pushes that thought out of his mind. He had promised himself to forget about the idiot and if it took him one more day then that was fine by him. 

Sanji supposes that he ought to wake up Zoro gently, but something drives him to rudeness. He kicks the bottom of the chair jostling the man awake, causing Zoro to grunt in surprise and look around confused. 

“Morning sunshine, lunch is served.” Sanji places the meal in front of Zoro carefully avoiding touching arms, heaven knows what would happen if he actually touched Zoro. 

“Took you long enough, I couldn’t keep myself entertained.”

Sanji looks at the clock, cooking the meal had taken him about 15 minutes. 

“Sure, must be hard to do with a brain like yours. Time must fly when you’re dead asleep.” 

Zoro chuckles at this, but is too busy to reply as he’s already picked up the fork and is cutting into the dish. Sanji knows his food is good and doesn’t wait around to hear the murmurs of admiration; he’s stressed out enough being alone and in such close quarters with Zoro. Instead he moves toward the back of the shop and sits on a counter below an open window and lights a cigarette. As the smoke drifts outside Sanji finds himself meditating over Zoro. And the idea of Sanji and Zoro together. 

Above everything else, Sanji is surprised at the intensity of his attraction to Zoro. Sanji is a romantic. He falls in love at least once a week, but usually it’s a scenario quickly played out in his mind. He is capable of falling in and out of love within 20 minutes. A few compliments and flirtations with a person of interest, a brief chaste touch and usually the object of his affection is out of his life never to be seen again. But with Zoro… Sanji has found himself thinking about the man at odd times, while cooking, while driving, most annoyingly in the shower. 

It’s not that he isn’t open to love, but his last relationship was well, disappointing. And honestly he’s surprised he’s attracted to Zoro in the first place. The man is definitely out of type for Sanji. The guy is huge and muscular and extrudes an extremely physical presence that drew Sanji’s attention in the first place; the first word that comes to Sanji’s mind is solid. Zoro also has that bad boy vibe, something that Sanji had tried and failed to emulate in high school due to suggestions from movies and television. With Zoro though, it’s not an aire the man is putting on, but rather like he knows he’s dangerous and revels in the idea of it. Sanji knows without a doubt that Zoro could pick him up and throw him clean across the room, which is… exhilarating and sexy. 

Sanji also knows that this isn’t just a crush, and it’s well beyond sexual. He has an intense need to know more about Zoro, what thoughts, if there are any, run behind those dark eyes. Sanji wants to run his hands and mouth all over Zoro’s body but he also want to know the story behind the scars, know what Zoro does all day; he wants to know Zoro in the most intimate of ways. 

Sanji is distracted from his contemplation by two things: the scrape of silverware against a plate and a burning sensation against his fingers. He puts his cigarette out against the windowsill and tosses the butt outside the window. Moving from his resting place he heads over to the table where Zoro is sitting. He collects the plate from Zoro and wordlessly heads back to the kitchen and places the plate in the sink with the dishes he used for cooking earlier. Sanji thinks he should hire a dish washer, it would certainly make his life easier, as he slowly walks back into the restaurant area trying to think of something semi-intelligent to say to Zoro. 

Suddenly his heart stops as he approaches the table: Zoro is nowhere to be found. The shop is entirely empty. 

On the table are a $20 bill and a small piece of paper with sloppy handwriting. Sanji picks it up trying to decipher the script. 

_Cook,_

_Food was all right, I’ve had worse._

_Meet me here tonight at 8pm_

Below that is an address somewhere downtown in an area that is relatively familiar to Sanji. He is both gripped with anger and anxiety. It looks like forgetting about Zoro won’t be so simple after all. So the idiot couldn’t say anything to his face? He's angry about the insult to his cooking. _All right? It was fucking gourmet_. He’s also worried about tonight: what does Zoro mean by asking him to meet him somewhere?

_Putain!!_


	7. Deep Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have another chapter because im not sure its fair to leave the last chapter on its own. enjoy! x

Sanji is nervous. Really nervous, like high schooler on a first date what-if-i-missed-a-spot-shaving-or-dear-god-what-if-i-have-a-pimple, nervous. 

He drives up to the address Zoro left him earlier that day. It’s a bar with a few people loitering outside, some kind of terrible music leaking through the front door. Sanji scans the parking lot finding himself looking for the motorcycle Zoro rides, and he’s disappointed when he finds nothing. Either the idiot isn’t here yet or Zoro sent Sanji on a wild goose-chase and he’s only embarrassing himself by showing up in the first place. 

He gets out of his car and walks up to the bar entrance. He stands outside enjoying the cool spring air and lights a cigarette. The nicotine helps calm a few of his nerves, but it’s not until the second cigarette that his hands actually stop shaking. He’s just about to stub out the second smoke when a familiar shadow walks up to the bar entrance. 

“So you actually came,” Zoro says simply. 

“You know, typically when you leave directions for someone it’s polite to arrive on time.” Sanji checks his watch, it’s now 8:12. Five more minutes and Sanji would have left. 

Zoro’s attitude is brisk with a hint of frustration. “Whatever, I’m here now. Can you play pool?”

Sanji nods in affirmation. 

“Let me rephrase that, are you good at shooting pool?”

Again, Sanji nods, adding in an eye roll. “It’s not that big of a skip to go from playing with knives to playing with cue sticks. My old man used to beat me with the sticks when he found out I was playing for money. ” 

Sanji reflects on his time spent with his adoptive father Zeff. His childhood wasn’t easy, Zeff wasn’t exactly the caring and doting type of parent, but he had a home, food, and when he was old enough, a job that he had masses of raw talent for. His old man had given him everything… everything except money to pay for the smoking habit he’d picked up while living on the streets. After all, cigarettes were cheaper than food and made skipping meals bearable. People were more likely to give a cigarette than a tenner at any rate. So Sanji did what any rebellious and poor teenager did: he snuck into bars and hustled pool and cigarettes. Zeff hadn’t reacted nicely to Sanji’s late night activities, so after the second beating Sanji learned to hustle smarter and to be more discreet about his illicit activities. 

Suddenly Zoro pushes him aside snaps him out of his reverie. 

“Cool, you’re gonna help me hustle up this month’s rent.” 

They walk through the entrance of the bar and the smell of beer, cigarettes and chalk assaults Sanji’s nose. He peers through the haze inside the building, spotting several men clustered around the bar with a several more scattered around the two pool tables clustered in the back of the room. 

They head to the bar; Sanji orders a beer and Zoro mumbles a request for whisky while continuing to scope out the dimly lit interior. Zoro grabs both drinks the bartender placed on the bar and leads Sanji to a table that has the perfect vantage point to watch both pool tables. 

Sanji peers over his glass and looks at Zoro. The other man seems deep in thought, taking slow but deliberate sips from his glass. One eyebrow is drawn down making Zoro appear much more fearsome than Sanji knows him to be. A shudder runs down Sanji’s spine, there it is again, there is something deeply unsettling about this man. _Has he done something? Or has he seen something?_

Sanji thinks the silence between the two of them is beginning to get awkward, and tries to come up with some topic of conversation that will give him some clue as to the reason he was invited tonight. 

“So what’s wrong seaweed, your normal job fall through this week?”

This successfully elicits a smile from Zoro, “Something like that.” 

Sanji takes another drink from his glass before continuing on in a joking way, “So is this a regular occurrence? Because 1) gambling is a dangerous habit, and I don’t like to associate myself with people of loose morals, and 2) if you’re that desperate for money you could have stayed and washed dishes” _with me_ , he silently adds. 

Zoro rolls his eyes towards the blonde man and sips his whisky before answering. “Like you’ve never found yourself in this kind of situation before. No, I don’t play all that often, and I’m not so stupid as to hit the same places to get myself in trouble. Now shut up, I’m trying to pick out a mark.” 

“So you do admit you’re stupid though?” 

Zoro rolls his eyes. He turns slowly away leaving Sanji peering into his beer glass. 

Ten minutes pass in silence, making Sanji feel awkward and glad for the chance to study Zoro. He was very focused on memorizing a specific pattern of freckles on the man’s neck when Zoro stands up very suddenly, almost knocking over the whole table. Sanji shakes his head to wipe off any trace of a dreamy stare on his face. At least, he really, really hopes he wasn’t looking dreamily at the other man. 

Zoro stumbles again, _is he drunk?_ He leans conspiratorially towards Sanji and whispers, “follow my lead.”

Sanji follows Zoro toward the pool tables, noting the man’s pronounced swaying. _What is going on? He only had one drink! Is he a lightweight? This whole evening is going to be spoiled if he’s drunk._

Sanji suddenly registers that his hand is now trapped in Zoro’s and the green haired man is saying something to him. 

“What?”

Obvious frustration shows on Zoro’s face as he repeats himself, “COME ON! It’ll be great! You know I’m SO GOOD at pool. Gimme a chance!” Zoro is slurring his words and Sanji quickly catches on. 

“You idiot! You’re drunk and you’ve won what, a total of 6 games of pool in your life? Stupid marimo we’re going home.”

“No, I’ve got my bonus from work today, and you’re lying at me being bad at pool and also you suck, you’re a…. fun-sucker that’s what. Now let go of my arm I’m going to play pool.”

Sanji represses the urge to laugh. He’s only known Zoro for about two weeks, but this conversation is wildly out of character. The idiot is also loud, and quickly drawing attention from everyone in the bar, which Sanji supposes is the point of this whole charade. 

A large man reeking of alcohol approaches the two, “what seems to be the problem here kids?”

Zoro drunkenly turns to face the man, “There’s not an actual problem. My friend here is just being stupid and I want to play pool.” Sanji has to pretend he is not overwhelmed with joy at the mention of ‘my friend.’

The new man stares hard at Sanji and laughingly says, “You’re right! That’s not a problem at all! Come on Blondie let’s let your friend have some fun tonight!”

Sanji huffs in exaggerated frustration, “Fine. FINE. You want to be an idiot and blow your money, fine. But when you lose, and you come crying to me, I will have no sympathy. None, because you’re an idiot and you will have deserved everything you get tonight.”

He walks past Zoro and the rude guy, and grabs two cue sticks and a block of chalk off the wall. He turns to see Zoro, drunkenly stacking the balls much to the admiration of Rude Guy and his gang. 

“No, no. Here let me help you with that friend.” Rude Guy leans over the table and corrects the ball placement. Sanji hands Zoro his cue and stands back, trying to look as defeated as possible. 

Rude Guy, after introducing himself as Bellamy, _what kind of name is that_ , moves forward and breaks first. 

The poor sap never saw it coming. 

Everything went as planned: the entire operation was a classic hustle. After putting quite a surprising amount of money down at the beginning of the game, Zoro kept up his drunk and disorderly act. He spent the first game making bad shots, repeatedly sinking the cue ball, and once actually tripping over Bellamy to pocket the opposing team’s 4-ball. Sanji, being completely sober, made a few successful shots but deliberately misaimed and didn’t attempt any of the trick shots he’d perfected as a kid. 

Bellamy shot the black 8-ball to end the game, and Zoro merely looked at the table in pure confusion. If Sanji hadn’t known better, he thought Zoro might actually do something stupid, like cry or kick the table in frustration. 

Instead Zoro continued to open and close his mouth like an idiot, stammering out excuses and wondering out loud exactly how he lost. _He’s a good actor_ , Sanji thinks. Zoro turns toward the bar, and slams the beer he ordered before walking back to the pool table and Sanji. 

“Ok, ok, that was like, a warm up round or something. I’m totally gonna win the next one!” He proceeds to throw more money down on the table and starts racking up the balls for the next game. 

Bellamy just laughs and puts down twice as much as he had the previous game. Sanji smirks: Zoro picked the perfect mark. 

Zoro and Sanji finish the game within 15 minutes. Zoro was a mean marksmen and it seemed like he could make a shot from any angle, he even managed to jump the cue ball to make a more difficult shot at one point. Sanji noticed he played strategically, trying to give Bellamy the least number of shots possible. Sanji makes the final shot leaning backwards over the table, the pool cue stretched out behind his back and with his ass leaning against the table. Sanji notices Zoro looking at him strangely; _maybe I’m not imagining the attraction here._

All in all, they win $453 off of Bellamy and his gang. Sanji thanks the group for putting up with a stupid drunk and sashays out of the bar giddy on the excitement of winning easy money. 

It’s not until Sanji reaches his car that he notices Zoro is no longer behind him. He decides to wait for the idiot to make an appearance and leans against his car for a smoke. 

Zoro exits the bar about 15 minutes later, and looks around for Sanji. Sanji watches as he walks toward his car. 

He’s about to say something, maybe, ‘that guy Bellamy sure was an idiot huh?’ Or, ‘well that made for an interesting night out!’ He even thinks he might go so far as to complement Zoro on his excellent playing skills but every thought exits his mind when a pair of lips is pressed against his own. 

Zoro is kissing Sanji. 

Sanji is kissing Zoro back. 

The green haired idiot’s lips are soft, and they move tantalizingly against Sanji’s. Sanji shudders as Zoro’s mouth traces fine lines around his own. The kiss escalates, each man developing a hunger for the other. Sanji playfully bites Zoro’s bottom lip; Zoro wraps a hand around Sanji’s head, the other resting on his shoulder. The kiss deepens; teeth clack awkwardly against each other, Sanji’s breath hitches as a foreign tongue runs around his top lip, and he opens his mouth in response. Sanji sucks lightly on the other mans lip and moves to meets Zoro’s tongue with his own. Hands move: Sanji finds himself running his hands over Zoro’s chest and shoulders curving into the dips of tight muscles on his back as he feels another pair of hands exploring his neck and hips. 

Sanji presses himself against his car and gently pulls Zoro against him. Squashed between metal and muscle, Sanji feels Zoro’s chest move with every breath. He shifts his stance and the two men’s lower halves press against each other. Sanji can feel a tightening in his groin and responsive warmth emanating from Zoro. He is lost in the moment as Zoro continues to caress his mouth with lips. 

Sanji feels, rather than hears, Zoro hum lightly against him. Suddenly the kiss is over and Zoro breaks the embrace. Sanji shivers as the cold from the night replaces the heat from Zoro’s body. 

Zoro is looking in Sanji’s eyes, and Sanji raises his head to meet the gaze. _What is he thinking? What is he looking for?_ His upper lip tingles, having been rubbed raw by stubble. 

Suddenly Zoro turns away and heads for the motorbike Sanji sees parked on the opposite side of the lot under a street lamp. 

“See you tomorrow shit cook!” 

Sanji’s hands shake as he unlocks his car door and collapses into the front seat of his car. He misses the pressure of another person against him, and he closes his eyes trying to sear every touch and caress into his memory. He starts the car and drives out of the lot hoping to catch up to Zoro, to say something, to say anything. But the motorcycle is nowhere to be found. 

Sanji never even noticed the blood spattered on the bottom of Zoro’s pants.


	8. A Second Lesson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this update seems a little later than usual (although who am i kidding its not like i have a real schedule going here) the last chapter i wrote took me forever to finally push through and i'm in the process of moving across the country. but here it is! if you haven't noticed already the italicized sentences are Sanji's internal monologue. 
> 
> as always, put words in the comment box to let me you if you liked this chapter, if you have any suggestions, or if you just want to tell me about your day. x

Sanji is in his shower trying to sort out the emotions running through his head. On one hand, _I kissed Zoro!_ But he remains confused about the other man’s motivations: why didn’t he say anything? Why did he invite him to the bar? Was Sanji imagining the ferocity of the kiss? He had tried to put everything he had felt over the past few weeks into that kiss and thought he’d been rewarded with a brief look into Zoro’s mind. It certainly felt like Zoro was thinking the same thing about Sanji. 

But if Zoro did feel that way about him, why was he trying to hide it? Why go through the charade of playing pool last night? Sanji had been equally discreet and forward about his attraction to the other man, but aside from the kiss had received no likewise attention from Zoro. 

On the other hand, Sanji has a massive erection with thoughts of Zoro bouncing around in his skull, and the steam rising from the shower isn’t helping anything. 

He rubs his pulsing cock trying to focus on what exactly had been communicated by that kiss? What did it mean? He remembers the taste and smell of Zoro, and _oh god we were pressed so tight together. What would have happened if I’d opened my car earlier, if I’d given Zoro a ride somewhere?_ He thinks of pressing Zoro up against a wall, their hips grinding against each other. He imagines that the marimo is just as forward with their clothes off and just as ferocious as the kiss in the parking lot had been. It’s easy to imagine Zoro with his shirt off, muscles firm and warm, Sanji’s touch raising light hairs on the skin. Zoro has a light trail of hair starting just below his belly button and his hips form a perfect V inviting Sanji to explore below the belt. He imagines wrapping his long legs around the other man, possibly sitting in his lap as his mouth traces lower and lower… 

A loud groan escapes Sanji’s mouth as his hips twitch forward and his vision blurs for a couple of seconds. 

He cleans his body with soap and steps out of the shower wrapping a towel around his waist. He moves to the bedroom and steps into a pair of boxers before flinging himself on top of his bed. _Well the shower solved one problem, but what the fuck am I supposed to do now??_

And what exactly did Zoro mean when he said “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

It’s possible that Zoro won’t show up tomorrow. It’s possible that Sanji will never see Zoro again. He fervently hopes this isn’t true, but if he’s going to run situations through his mind he might as well start with the worst ones first. 

Sanji closes his eyes, it’s late and he’s tired. If he can’t make any sense of what happened by now, he might as well sleep it off and hopes his brain will sort everything out in the dream state. 

He stretches out and flips the lamp next to the bed off. He curls up willing himself to fall asleep quickly; the less time he spends conscious, the less time he has to be anxious about Zoro. 

As his brain shifts to a dream-like state, he wishes dearly that Zoro were in the bed next to him. 

***

Sanji was so busy the next day, he almost forgot about seeing Zoro again. Almost. 

He was catering two different events that day: one was a corporate breakfast party where he dutifully served omelets to people in suits that smelled of dust and the sweat-like smell of ambition. He’d received many complements for his work and after leaving business cards on the table felt certain that he’d see more than a few of the suits again. 

His second event was a taco bar for a local student organization. While tacos were easy to make, Sanji prided himself on providing variation and complicated flavours. He had prepared ingredients for several different types of tacos, with inspiration being provided by both Central American and Eastern Asian ingredients. He hoped that catering to the younger population of town would increase the number of people eating lunch at All Blue. While catering was the more profitable side of business, Sanji preferred serving individualized meals from his personal menu. 

Still, he had managed to keep his hands and his mind busy all day, until an hour before closing. 

He decided to bake a cake, since typically working with large amounts of sugar and flour required a lot of movement and physical strength in the kitchen. Decorating the cake with fondant and sugar glass though, that had been a mistake. He finds that between rolling and measuring out the fondant, setting the sugar, and whipping up frosting, he has an awful lot of free space in his head to think. Even pipetting rosettes doesn’t distract him from wondering exactly where the marimo was, and _when he was going to show up and where are we going to go from here?_

By the time Zoro finally walks through the front door, Sanji is putting the finishing touches on a 5-tier cake monstrosity. 

“Wow, compensating for something?” 

Sanji side-eye’s Zoro and continues cleaning up the mess in the kitchen. 

“Ha. As if. Besides,” he moves to dry his hands off, “you know what they say about guys who work with their hands.” 

Sanji hears Zoro chuckle at the innuendo as the other man moves towards a table in the dining area. 

“So. Food. Got anything left over?” 

Sanji pauses. _So when are we gonna talk about what the FUCK happened last night._ He decides to continue the conversation in a more sensible route. “Sure, any special requests tonight?”

“Nah, do what you always do shit cook: surprise me.”

In the end, Sanji prepares a meal of spicy, stuffed, panko breaded chicken paired with a fresh salad of onions, black cherry tomatoes and cucumbers. He sets two plates down at the table where Zoro has, yet again, fallen asleep. 

“So are you going to tell me you’re narcoleptic now?”

“Narco? What? No? No drugs.” Zoro blinks his eyes slowly in what Sanji assumes is a desperate attempt to come to terms with consciousness. 

“I’m slightly surprised with the amount of brain cells you’ve got left. No idiot, narcolepsy? Are you narcoleptic?” Still seeing the confused look on Zoro’s face Sanji elaborates. “You know, where you can’t control how and when and where you fall asleep?” 

At this Zoro laughs. “Uh no, I don’t have that problem, but sleeping is better than being bored. Besides, you never know what will keep you up at night. But, uh I think Luffy’s brother Ace has that, maybe it’s rubbed off on me.” 

_You never know what will keep you up at night? What they fuck is that supposed to mean? Are you insinuating something about your night life?_

“Uh-huh, sure. Well, dig in, moss for brains.”

They eat in silence. It’s comfortable though, to Sanji at least. The atmosphere feels like both of them have things they need to say, but there is a mutual understanding that now is not the perfect place or time. 

_What’s going on? Like this silence isn’t awkward but I really want to know what they hell you’re doing here right now and if you have anything to say for yourself._

Sanji is beginning to think his original strategy of trying to forget about Zoro is currently on life support. The prognosis of Plan: Don’t Get Involved is grim.

Sanji is finishing his glass of wine when Zoro finally puts down his utensils. He moves to clear the table and takes everything back to the kitchen hoping, praying even, that Zoro won’t disappear like he did last time. 

Instead he returns to the dining area to find Zoro talking on his cell phone. 

“Uh-huh…Sure, I guess…No it’s not a problem… Remember what happened last time you… No seriously… take some time off you deserve it… no that’s not until next week… right, at the usual time and place… no you can’t fucking bring Smoker that will ruin the whole set-up…. Because he works for…. Fine…. I’m going to hang up now and head over there, I can’t talk about this right now… yes… bye.”

By the time Zoro hangs up his phone call, Sanji is almost through his after dinner smoke, he had decided it was easier to smoke at the table this time and not leave an avenue for Zoro to escape. He takes one last drag from the cigarette and smashes the butt into the ashtray he’d brought over to the table. He doesn’t pretend like the has the slightest idea about the conversation Zoro had, because well, he doesn’t, but now he turns to Zoro like he wants to start something. Which he does. _So do I punch the guy or talk to him?_

Instead he watches Zoro stand up, and he raises an eyebrow towards the man, hopefully communicating to Zoro that he is not free to leave the table. 

Zoro hesitates, “yeah ok, this is uh… not how I wanted to do this. I was gonna come over here for dinner and then… but that’s not going to happen now. Uh, I just got called in to cover a class at the dojo and I really can’t say no. So, I’m just going to leave now.” 

His speech is awkward and Sanji picks up on the uncertainty in the other man’s voice. 

“I don’t suppose I could come with you?”

This has the desired result of surprising Zoro. 

He stutters out, “You? Come with me? To the dojo? Why?”

Sanji smiles at this. “Well, I’ve got some martial arts background, and it’s been a while since I’ve sparred. Plus you’ve seen me in action at work; it’d be polite of you to return the favor. And also, I think I would really enjoy kicking your ass.”

_Fuck-fuck-fuck was inviting myself along too forward? Did I just make it weird?_

“What kind of martial arts background do you have?”

Sanji supposes this is the proper response, and that maybe he didn’t make the whole thing weird. 

“A little bit of everything to be honest. I moved around a lot as a kid, and we were pretty poor so I took what classes they had, when I could. I’ve got some Taekwondo, some Muay Thai, hell I even had a guy teach me some Krav Magna, that lesson hurt like a bitch. Uh, a lot of kickboxing stuff, some MMA fights and the like. You get the picture: a poor immigrant kid on the streets learns to fight real quick.” 

“Hmph. Well I suppose you’ll do. I mean, you watching the class won’t hurt anything, and we can spar at the end. You can follow me on my bike to the dojo, are you ready to leave… uh now?”

“Idiot, I’ll drive, that way we can get you to whatever class you have to teach on time. You’re not exactly the best navigator if you haven’t noticed. Gimme a couple of minutes to go change into something comfortable and we can go.”

They spend the entire 30-minute car ride arguing. 

Sanji isn’t exactly sure what they argue about, only that they argue about everything. They both filled the time from All Blue to the dojo with verbal sparring, as much as a test of wits as a desperate attempt to not say anything of relative importance. Sanji appreciates the banter: he lives alone, and working as much as he does at a young age doesn’t leave room for vivid social life. 

By the time they arrived at the dojo, they have exhausted such topics as: the weather, the radio station, the state of Sanji’s car, Sanji’s smoking habit, Zoro’s earrings, and whether the detour Sanji took was actually the correct route to the dojo. It was. 

Sanji sits in the corner of the gym room while several kids line up to pay their respects to Zoro as Sensei. Zoro seems like a different man with his kendo robes, or whatever, on. He seems taller, prouder, it also helps that the robes hug his waist, giving Sanji a very clear idea of what the other man might look like naked. But no, _shit, watching Zoro coach Kendo was not the moment to start thinking of these things. If all went well, they’d have a few moments later tonight to explore that avenue._

The class goes by quickly, Zoro is teaching younger kids, and Sanji figures there’s only so many ways 8 year olds can swing a wooden practice Shinai through the air at imaginary opponents. Still, Zoro manages to pay individual attention to each kid, correcting a certain technique here, demonstrating proper footwork there, and occasionally letting a few of the students take a practice swing at him. Sanji had never enjoyed watching another man work so much. 

The clock on the wall finally shows that the class is over. Sanji is glad that he’d come, but also itching to lay his hands on Zoro, in whatever way possible. He waits until the final student leaves the medium size room before standing up and stretching out his long, lean legs. 

He notices out of the corner of his eye that Zoro is stretching as well, and is also staring just as pointedly at Sanji. He continues his stretching warm-up, he hasn’t sparred in a while and any injury would be a nuisance to his busy schedule. 

Finally he turns and faces Zoro who is standing in the middle of the room brandishing what he assumes are two practice shinai, twirling them around his body, his movements showing off the muscle definition in his forearms. 

Sanji clears his throat, “Ready shithead?”

“Now, now, is that any way to speak to a guy with two swords in his hands?”

“I don’t know, let me know when you find a guy like that.”

At this Zoro laughs, but doesn’t reply. Instead Sanji watches as he puts both wooden sticks in front of him and bows slightly in Sanji’s direction. 

Sanji returns the gesture with a slight bow of his head, and immediately lunges forward. 

His first kick aiming for the right ribcage is blocked smoothly by a sword as Zoro raises his elbow and drops his wrist. The wooden sword runs parallel to his body, and Sanji knows he won’t be able to get another kick on that side in the same movement; instead he rocks back on his left foot, rotating smoothly until the same foot that was just above the hip is now attempting to find a new home in Zoro’s collarbone. Again, he is blocked, and he leans smoothly back into a bridge position to avoid a well timed sword slice aiming for his head. 

He bounces up again and blocks another attack from Zoro with the ball of his foot and uses the momentum from standing up to push back. Zoro deftly avoids a swinging kick to the shin that would have toppled him and Sanji is forced to raise his other leg to block two swords that would have left a very nice dent in his liver. 

They continue in this fashion, time slipping away for both of them. When he’d first made the suggestion that they spar together, Sanji wasn’t sure what to expect: he didn’t know exactly at what fighting level Zoro would be at, or whether it was even fair to kick-box against someone who fought with swords. He was pleasantly surprised to find that Zoro is not only talented with a sword, but that his strength and strategy match Sanji’s speed and flexibility. They both landed a few hits on each other. Sanji had managed a pretty devastating blow to Zoro’s ribcage and his right shin. Zoro had landed a blow on both of Sanji’s arms, and there were only so many times Sanji could block a sword with the bottom of his feet: he was certain he’d go home with plenty of bruises on his ankles. Sanji had repaid in turn with a knee to the stomach, but he’d only received a grunt from the other man from his effort. Soon they were both dripping in sweat, mumbling and swearing through hit after block after hit. Their fight ends only when a soft cough from the door distracts both of them. 

“Um, Zoro-Sensei, I’d like to go home now.” A diminutive girl stands in the doorframe looking equal parts awed and exhausted. 

“Oh, shit Apis, I didn’t think you’d still be here. I’m so sorry I guess I got a little carried away,” Zoro explains weakly. 

“No, I mean, it’s ok! I just have to lock up the building, and it’s late, and I have school tomorrow and I’m sorry for bothering you.” Apis shrinks back against the door frame, but looks very relieved that Zoro and Sanji have stopped sparring.

As Zoro turns to put away his swords and tidy up the room, Sanji catches a look at the clock at the wall. It’s almost 9:30, which means they’d been sparring for an entire hour. _Time really does fly when you’re having fun._

Would he call that fun? Hell yeah. He hadn’t fought with such exertion since he was a kid still learning how to throw a roundhouse. Zoro hadn’t given him an inch, and he’d pushed himself to his fighting limit. He’d enjoyed the mental workout as well: trying to avoid two swords required reading a different kind of body language than in normal street fights. He also felt like he learned a lot about the other man. Zoro had this strange lighting focus, and an almost idiotic determination. Sanji was pretty sure at least one of the kicks he landed had enough force to break a rib, but Zoro hadn’t said anything other than a light ‘oof’ and a few swears when his swords didn’t connect. 

Tonight was great. 

He steps outside for a smoke while Zoro helps the girl called Apis close up the dojo. It doesn’t take long and soon the two of them reappear to lock the front door. Sanji bids Apis a good night and puts out his cigarette on the sidewalk. He shivers a little, it’s a cool May night and he wishes he’d brought a jacket. The sweat from the earlier spar sticks to him now, making the chilly air feel even colder. 

“Won’t those things kill you?” Zoro stands beside Sanji as they walk back to the car, gesturing to the pack of cigarettes in Sanji’s pocket. 

“Well, life hasn’t killed me yet so I’m not terribly concerned to be honest.” 

The ride back is much more relaxed, and they talk about their fight. 

“I’ve never seen such quick footwork as yours. You’re pretty difficult to get a read on. You fight messily though, you weren’t kidding about having all kinds of different training.” 

Sanji smirks at this. He replies, “You know, I’ve never fought against anybody that uses a weapon before. It was really strange. I also never would have pegged you for a southpaw. How did you move those, what are they called... Shinai, so quickly?”

Sanji hears a light chuckle next to him, “I’m not gonna say thank you, but this is me acknowledging that I should." Zoro pauses, "Ah, well you can’t really move shinai with that speed and precision, I was actually fighting with wooden katana.”

At this Sanji is surprised. “Katana? Like a fucking samurai?” 

“Well yeah, something like that. It’s different though, I’m not really sure how to explain it.” Zoro shrugs his shoulders, obviously not willing to go any deeper into the subject. 

Sanji sighs, “I’m sure even if you tried, you wouldn’t make much sense.”

“I feel like even if I did explain, it’d go right over your curlicue eyebrows, cook.” 

They sit in silence for a few minutes and Sanji tries to take stock of the few bruises he knows he received. He’s absorbed in driving and simultaneously trying to ignore how much he really likes he guy sitting in the passenger seat so he doesn’t realize that Zoro has said something to him.

“What?”

“Your hands? You never once went for a punch or a clutch, hell you only blocked me once with your arm. Why don’t you fight with your hands?”

It’s not a long or particularly hard difficult thing to explain, but not something that Sanji regularly thinks about.

“Oh well, it was a habit I picked up as a kid when I’d get into street fights all the time. The old man would get so mad when I came home with jammed fingers or sprained wrists because it meant that I couldn’t help out at the restaurant. So eventually I learned to fight without using them. It’s still pretty important to me; my hands are my livelihood. You can’t run a catering business with broken fingers. “

He sees Zoro nod in understanding. 

They finally reach All Blue again. Sanji parks in front of the shop near Zoro’s motorcycle. 

He doesn’t know what makes him do it, but as Sanji is about to go through the doors of the shop, he calls out to Zoro, “Hey you want a snack or a drink before you go home?”

He sees Zoro pause. He thinks, _shit now I’ve done it. Now I’ve pushed it too far._ Instead, to his complete surprise and joy, Zoro nods his head and reverses direction. 

They walk into the shop together, and as Zoro heads to his usual table Sanji calls out, “No this way. I keep the good beer upstairs in my fridge.” 

They head upstairs to Sanji’s apartment together.


	9. Late Night Moss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> something different here: a brief look into the mind of everyone's favorite marimo. as always leave a message to tell me what you think! x

It was the wink that fucking started it. 

Sure, he’d noticed the blonde staring at him, he was used to it. You don’t walk around town with green hair and not get a few stares. But when Zoro saw Sanji wink at him as he left Nami’s for the first time, he knew he was getting into deep shit. 

The blonde was hot and talented. In Zoro’s book, that was a rare combination. And for another thing, he seemed to get off on raising Zoro’s blood pressure. Still, Zoro wouldn’t deny it: he liked the yelling and insults just as much. Honestly, anyone who could raise his hackles like Sanji could was worth looking into, even if he blood reached near boiling point just standing next to the fucker. 

He’d tried really, really fucking hard to come up with another excuse to see the shitty guy. The cookies had been a fluke: Sanji’s shop had just happened to be the only one on the street that was open. And yeah ok, maybe Zoro hadn’t been able to find another shop, but it had worked out in the end. He’d gotten the cookies for Nami as promised, he’d been able to playfully banter with the cook, and he’d had a lot of fun at the party. 

And then Sanji had winked at him. 

The wink told him all he needed to know: he was going to see the cook again. 

He didn’t believe in love at first sight. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he believed in love period, but for some reason Sanji’s personality was magnetic. Maybe it was the bickering between them. So he’d followed up. 

Of course, it helped that he was kind of contractually obligated to pay the blonde for services rendered. In other words, he owed for the cookies. 

When he’d showed up at All Blue, and seriously what kind of name was that for a restaurant, he was greeted by a round of insults and flirty looks through lowered lashes. But, the cook wasn’t bashful about anything; maybe all of those stories about boys being mean to the kids they liked were true, he’d responded in kind after all. That meeting had gone better than he ever would have hoped: he left with the guys phone number. 

But in all honesty, he had tried really fucking hard to come up with a not pathetic excuse to see they guy again. So two weeks later, when Tashigi had mentioned the upcoming awards ceremony at the dojo, and ‘wouldn’t it be lovely to give the kids something really exciting,’ he’d jumped at the chance to call Sanji. 

The bastard had managed to flirt his way through a simple business deal. But who was he kidding, nothing about this was simple. Zoro really could not decide whether he liked the guy or he hated his guts. It was an interesting combination to say the least, and he didn't like the way Sanji made his brain turn in circles. 

He’d managed to show Sanji a part of what he did with his life, and the blonde had returned in kind with some of the most amazing food he’d ever had the pleasure to eat in his life. How the fuck is this guy so talented? 

At this point, Zoro hadn’t quite had enough. Sure he really liked the guy, but he needed to see more to make up his own opinion. He doesn’t half-ass things, so if he’s going to, well… whole-ass one thing (pardon the innuendo) it had better damn well be worth his time. 

And then the jerk had spent the whole party staring at Zoro. He thought he must have been imagining it. Admittedly he had been staring at Sanji the whole time as well, if not being much more covert about it. The blonde had looked great. The jeans he had been wearing made his thin legs look sky-high, and god he was just so limber. The button-down Sanji had worn accentuated his prominent hips and gave Zoro a very nice view of his collarbones. Sanji’s thin frame created these dips around his neck bordered by his clavicle and god, they were so deep Zoro thought he might drown in them. Luffy, of all people, had noticed the exchanged looks between Zoro and Sanji and mentioned as much. 

“Is there something going on between you two? Because you know we’ll have to clear him.”

That phrase had echoed in his head all night long. Is there something going on between the two of them? Absolutely not, they didn’t do anything more than argue. Did he want there to be something more between them? He didn’t really want to admit it, but he found his thoughts constantly turning towards the other man. And what if Luffy did clear Sanji’s background? What if he was involved in… no Zoro didn’t want to go down that train of thought. He’d practiced training his mind on avoiding unsavory thoughts; he wasn’t about to begin thinking about worst case scenarios. 

Before too long, Zoro noticed that Sanji had disappeared from the party, and it looked like Robin had joined him. Curse his luck. If there was anybody that he talked to most often about this kind of stuff, it was Robin. He also hadn’t liked the looks Sanji had been giving Nami and Robin. Of course the first guy he liked in a year is straight. Maybe he’d imagined the flirting between them and he was, what had Robin called it… projecting his emotions onto the situation. Fuck emotions.

But both of them had returned, bringing nothing back to the party except the stink of cigarette smoke. Robin had given him a knowing look; fuck if he was supposed to know what that meant. Should he go for it or not? Instead he read into it exactly what he wanted to: maybe the shitty cook was interested in him too. 

He’d shown up at the restaurant again; partly to see Sanji again, but also because he really was hungry. Usopp had got him working on a case that’d taken up all of his time that morning and he hadn’t had time to eat at all. His mouth flooded with saliva as he imagined the delicious things Sanji might cook up in his kitchen. The guy was an amazing cook, even if Zoro would never actually be decent enough to give him the compliment. 

While waiting, he fell asleep. With his mind running in circles around the idiot curly brow, he’d decided sleep was the better alternative. He was woken rudely by a kick to the chair and then a plate of food plopped unceremoniously in front of him. 

He’d hoped the blonde might have stayed at the table with him, maybe they’d talk about life, or jerk around like usual, anything really he just really wanted to get a feel for the kind of man Sanji was but, no, like everything else Sanji had to be difficult. 

The food had been amazing. He had been expecting good, but this was levels higher than ‘great’. There weren’t words to describe how delicious that food was. Zoro couldn’t even remember exactly what the cook had served him, but it was amazing, and exactly what he had wanted to eat. The cook knew food, and he knew people. Then, when Sanji had been nice enough to clear the table (Zoro had watched his ass very, very closely as he’d retreated to the kitchen), Zoro panicked. Was this the part where he said something? Did he make a move, or say something? What exactly was proper protocol on asking someone out on a date? Did he even want to go on a date, or did he just wasn’t to fuck the brains out of the blonde? 

So he did what normal (who is he kidding, it was, he’s ashamed to admit, a spineless move) people did when they panicked: he left. Admittedly he had left a note and this time he’d made sure to pay for dinner. He’d left a card on the table and made it Sanji’s turn to put something into whatever was going on between them. 

God he hated being vague, and he hated not knowing what to do. 

He also knew that inviting Sanji along to a hit had been a terrible idea. There was the possibility that Sanji wouldn’t notice anything about Zoro’s motive for being at the bar, that he wouldn’t notice Zoro had been waiting for Bellamy to show up, that maybe Sanji would walk out of the bar at the right time leaving Zoro to deliver his ‘warning.’ And god, Zoro hated mark nights, maybe inviting Sanji along would spice up the evening. Then again, maybe not. 

Everything had been perfect. Especially the blonde. 

He had walked into the bar, sexy and smooth. They’d ordered drinks and Zoro had come up with the piss poor excuse of hustling pool that night to give Sanji a reason to stay. He’d been nervous about the entire affair, because you don’t fucking bring your crush to a job idiot, but Sanji hadn’t noticed a single thing. Plus they left the bar a couple hundred dollars richer. 

Sanji had walked out of the bar ahead of him, and Zoro had taken the opportunity to get down to business. He really hated mark nights. Bellamy also wasn’t as stupid as the pool game had made him look. Angry perhaps, but a lot of the fight had gone out of the man when Zoro mentioned Luffy and Ace. The other man had known this was coming, and he certainly wasn’t going to stay involved in business once Zoro had his way with him. 

When he’d sauntered out of the bar, he’d been so happy, no... fucking ECSTATIC to see Sanji still in the parking lot, leaning up against the car smoking cool as could be. His brain had kind of fried at that sight so he did the one thing that had been on his mind all night: he kissed the cook. 

And god, what a kiss. 

It was everything Zoro had wanted and more. Sanji tasted of cigarettes and something else, vanilla maybe, and Zoro wanted more. He could tell that he’d shocked Sanji, but apparently not in the wrong way because the cook had responded in turn by grabbing him and meeting his mouth just as hungrily. Good, so he hadn’t been misreading anything between the two of them. He’d used the close quarters to explore the cook’s body: the thin frame hiding a very powerful core. Just as he could feel their pulses begin to match up, he’d been pulled down to lean against the car with a very sexy blonde trapped in the middle. Their hips had scraped each other’s and, god! He could have just taken the guy right then and there, hopped in the back of the car and been done with all of this flirty and angst nonsense. 

But then he remembered exactly what he had just walked away from. He laughed to himself; he wanted to stay in that spot all night long if possible, but of course the job got in the middle again. He couldn’t risk Sanji finding anything out about Zoro and the crew, not yet. He did what he was really good at: he left again. 

He’d felt Sanji whimper very softly as he turned around and walked away. He also didn’t want to leave things as they stood like that. He at least wanted to leave with the promise of more, and provide a reason for another date. 

Then in some cosmic sense of irony his real job kept him from stopping by All Blue until late at night the next day. 

The curly-brow idiot was in the middle of cleaning up the wreckage some culinary monstrosity had left in the kitchen. He’d somehow managed to make a cake that looked like it belonged at some kind of international baking competition. Zoro had never seen anything like it: apparently Sanji puts his nervousness to weird uses in the kitchen. At least, he hoped the cook was as anxious as he was. That would make the evening much less awkward, and if there was anything Zoro hated more that being vague, it was being awkward.

Dinner had been fantastic, Zoro wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to eating such amazing food. He hoped that at least Sanji would stick around long enough for him to test that theory. He didn’t want to say anything to Sanji over dinner, for one he was way too focused on how goddamn fabulous the meal was, how can you make chicken so delicious? He also wanted to wait for just the right moment and he had a feeling that Sanji probably had a few things on his mind as well. It could wait then.

In theme with everything else that happened between the two men, Zoro had been interrupted again. Of fucking course.

He hadn’t wanted dinner to go like this. He wasn’t going to be ambiguous about starting a relationship, he didn’t want to play games, and he certainly didn’t want to keep leaving. He tried to explain himself, knowing that he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t say no to helping out at the dojo. Well, not really his fault. 

But Sanji had seemed okay with the idea, had even offered to come along. Zoro hadn’t expected that. He also hadn’t expected to spar with the guy. And he really hadn’t expected Sanji to be good at fighting. 

Zoro had been fighting all his life. He started as a kid, picking fights for the fun of it. Then he started getting in trouble, and fighting to save his sorry ass. Fighting was what got him into the crew in the first place. His swords were as much a part of him as his green hair and his earrings; it was what he did; who he was. He liked the idea of teaching at the dojo—giving kids the chance to learn control and confidence, to fight metaphorically and not out of desperation like he once had to. 

But Sanji, he fought out of desperation too. Sure, in the car he’d mentioned that he had fought on the streets as a poor kid growing up, but there was an intensity in his kickboxing; a feral way to how he moved from kick to kick. He fought messily, like someone who wasn’t going to let anyone get the better of him… like someone once had got the better of him. Zoro wanted to ask about it, but thought maybe the two of them didn’t know each other well enough for that. There were physical and emotional scars you didn’t talk about. 

He’d been really happy with how the night had turned out. He’d gotten to spend time with Sanji and find out a little bit more about him, and it hadn’t been awkward at all. Zoro thought he might be spending quite a bit more time with the blonde, everything had been going so damn well. Other than the fact that Sanji wouldn’t stop running his damn mouth, but honestly, Zoro kind of liked that too (of course he'd never admit it). 

When they returned to All Blue from the dojo Zoro had been thinking the night couldn’t have gone any better, until Sanji had offered a late night snack and a beer. He just couldn’t say no to more of the cook’s handiwork, and he never said no to alcohol. 

And that is exactly how he found himself sitting on Sanji’s couch with a beer in hand, the blonde jerk sitting on the opposite side. 

Sanji is telling him something about how he started All Blue, he’d gotten the startup money from working at his old man’s restaurant and selling his old apartment, and so on. Zoro is only half paying attention; the blonde is sitting distractedly close to him. He does what any sane (although nothing about this is sane) guy sitting next to Sanji would do: he kisses him. 

This kiss is almost better than the first: they’ve already ventured into this territory, and everything is slightly familiar yet somehow still exotically new. Zoro’s lips move angrily against the blondes; he can feel every dip and crevice in his lips and shudders slightly when the blonde returns the intensity of the kiss. Soon they are both gasping both with the force of the encounter and with the lack of breathing that naturally occurs when lips are pressed tightly together. The pace of the kiss slows, and Zoro takes the opportunity to nibble slightly on Sanji’s lower lip. He can taste the beer they both have been drinking, and the salty reminder of their fight earlier. Sanji also has a whisper of sugar in the corner of his mouth, most likely a reminder of the cake he’d baked earlier.

He feels a questioning tongue move against his lower lip and he tilts his head downwards in an eager response to the kiss. Suddenly Zoro is falling, and as his head softly bumps the side arm of the couch he feels a light hand tracing around his hips. He shifts his weight to accommodate the sudden weight of another person leaning on him. Zoro raises his arms and places one on a neck, another on Sanji’s chest; his hands are connected such that he can feel the blood racing through the artery in the neck matching with the soft beating of a heart through Sanji’s shirt. 

The sudden switch of position also gives Zoro the perfect opportunity to move his lips against Sanji’s neck. He’s able to draw faint whimpers from him as his mouth moves slowly down Sanji’s neck. Zoro alternates between teeth, tongue and lips as he attempts to memorize the topography of the pale neck in front of him. A gasp and a hand on his chin pull him back, and Sanji’s lips are wrenching his own apart. They shuffle back and forth, Zoro trying to decide whether he likes the feel of Sanji’s top lip or bottom lip, but fuck it, as long and they are pushed together everything is fine by him. He feels the body on top of him shift slightly, and then hears a sudden hiss as Sanji, feeling particularly warm and hard, presses against his leg. 

Oh that’s how it is. 

He wraps his hands around the other man’s hips, wriggles down a little, and hears Sanji say “uumph” as his back hits the sofa; Zoro is now on top of the other man, and enjoying it immensely. In the dim light of the room he can see a slight flush creeping up Sanji’s neck. He moves his mouth to trace from Sanji’s earlobe to his mouth as Zoro moves his hand to the top of Sanji’s slacks and undoes the button. He hears his own name called breathlessly into his ear as he moves the zipper down, tantalizingly slow. 

As he makes the move to get pants out of the way entirely, he breaks the kiss. Both to make things easier, (it is really awkward to take pants off when you’re both laying down) but also to silently ask the question he needs the answer to: is this okay?

He can’t push this too far. He can’t move this too fast. But god if the cook isn’t making his brain short circuit, and his heart move blood in different places. Exciting places. 

Sanji responds to this by pulling his own pants off by himself and bringing Zoro back down to the couch with arms wrapped around his neck. 

“Come on, idiot” the cook growls. 

That’s a yes then. 

His mouth slowly makes a trail over the white T-shirt the idiot is wearing while his hand strokes down the hardness underneath Sanji’s briefs.

The cook is making absolutely exquisite sounds the lower his mouth moves. He hears something that could only be described as a squawk as he pops down the underwear between them. Sanji’s hips jerk upwards. 

He starts with his hand, moving down Sanji’s length making small circles with his thumb, and cupping Sanji’s balls as he places a delicate kiss on the top of Sanji’s cock. He’s already completely hard, and Zoro moves his mouth slowly as his lips follow the trail his thumb had made previously. He gazes up slowly and sees the cook eyeing him carefully. Not breaking eye contact he moves his mouth to the top and takes the first few inches of Sanji’s length completely in his mouth. Sanji is the one to break the stare first as he tosses his head back and leans against the sofa arm. He continues to slowly move his mouth further along Sanji’s throbbing erection while his tongue presses hard against the bottom. He’s being difficult on purpose, teasing small noises out of Sanji. As he reaches the bottom of the cook’s length, almost starting to choke, he moves slowly back up sucking in his cheeks, creating pressure as he does so. A hiss and fingers suddenly gripping his hair tells him everything he needs to know to continue making this enjoyable. 

He repeats the gesture, a little bit faster, this time using his tongue to swirl designs against the erection in his mouth. He can hear Sanji uttering strings of curse words. The repetition of the word “fuck” makes him laugh. The rumble in his throat apparently does weird things, he hears Sanji gasp deeply. He’ll have to test that out again. 

He moves himself into a rhythm now, his head bobbing up and down. He notices that Sanji is especially receptive to a tongue swirled around the top of his cock and Zoro repeats that to great personal enjoyment. He makes sure to press his own hardness against Sanji’s leg, using the pressure to move his own self further along. 

Soon the fingers in his hair are gripping tighter, and where Sanji was once muttering curse words he is now making random sounds, absolutely wonderful sounds. Zoro might get off on those sounds alone. He speeds up the rhythm, pressing his tongue harder now. A cry of “Oh FUCK ZORO WAIT” prepares him in time, and he latches himself tightly to Sanji’s hips as he draws forth Sanji’s orgasm and tangy liquid hits his throat. He swallows quickly and slowly draws his mouth off Sanji, who has dissolved into muttering something unintelligible. 

He centers himself on the couch, rubs his jaw and takes a few well-deserved deep breaths. Sanji is lying on the couch, gasping with eyes closed. Zoro can’t help but chuckle again. He sees Sanji open one eye, actually the only eye he can see with that stupid haircut, and the next thing he knows he is lying down on the couch and a wandering hand is undoing his jeans. He sighs comfortably, which quickly changes into a low growl as a hand is suddenly wrapped around his own erection. 

And oh, god, Sanji has just licked him from ball to top, and now a mouth is around him, taking the entire length in. Where the hell did his pants go? 

God that’s fucking deep.

Zoro can actually feel Sanji murmur enticingly against his cock. He can’t help himself now, he threads his fingers into the blonde hair in front of him. The pressure on him is unbelievable, and unconsciously he whines, almost begging for release. He can feel a hand on the bottom of his shaft, but he is much too distracted by what Sanji’s tongue is doing to notice anything else. He loses track of time, Zoro closes his eyes and tries to concentrate on anything, anything other than the mouth currently around his cock. He’s trying to ignore the faint whisper of teeth along his erection, but GOD how is that even possible? He feels something warm settle inside his chest, and his toes curl into the couch. He shifts his hips higher, pushing himself into Sanji’s mouth. A hand grips his hips pushing Zoro back down, and it’s the light touch that almost sets him off. He can barely manage out a warning, “Christ Sanji I’m gonna cum!” But Sanji only takes him deeper, setting off a reaction of pleasure and breathlessness. 

Zoro’s eyes unfocus and his chest tightens as the ceiling above him explodes in white light. 

God-fucking-shit piece of toast. 

Waves of pleasure roll through his body, and through the haze settling deeply into his brain he’s aware that Sanji gets up off the couch. The couch dips slightly due to the change in weight, and Zoro feels a little slighted, he wouldn’t have admitted it but he had kind of hoped the cook might wrap his body around his own for a while. Instead, Zoro gulps in fresh air and bring himself to a sitting position on the couch. 

Sanji comes back with a glass of water in hand that Zoro gratefully downs. He stretches his hands in the air, alleviating some of the tightness in his back. 

“Were you talking in Spanish?”

Sanji laughs at the question, “No. French.”

That throws Zoro a bit. “Where the fuck did you learn French?” He certainly doesn’t remember the two years of German he took in college. 

He’s rewarded with a small smirk from Sanji, “It’s where my parents were from. Immigrant kid, remember?” 

Zoro vaguely remembers Sanji telling him something about growing up poor and getting in fights because his parents didn’t speak fluent English. That makes sense (nothing about Sanji makes sense). 

“Cursing comes easier in French. It’s a colorful language.” 

Zoro moves off the couch to pick up his pants. How the hell did they make it to the other side of the room? As he’s putting them on he has to stifle a deep yawn. 

“Um, it wouldn’t be really awkward if I left would it? Yeah, don’t lie it will be. But, I’m gonna be dead asleep in about 20 minutes, and well… I Mean… god you’re great. Tonight was great. And now we know each other but… spending the night…I don’t… too fast.” Zoro isn’t really making any sense, and he yawns twice more while trying to get the sentence out. 

“Don’t stroke out on me now marimo, it’s fine. That’s what people do: they leave and then see each other again, right?”

The hopeful question hangs in the air. 

Zoro smiles, hand on the door, “Right. I’ll be back for lunch tomorrow.”

He walks out the door, still buzzed on pleasure but with the need for sleep drawing him home. He’ll be back for certain.


	10. Twenty Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cute fluff, and Sanji still can't decide if he's scared of Zoro or incredibly hot for Zoro (hint: it's both) 
> 
> hope you like this chapter! y'all's comments and kudos give me life. x
> 
> *this chapter has been slightly edited

Sanji wakes up suddenly with a gasp, sitting upright in his own bed. _Did he dream that?_

His feet touch the cold floor, helping to sharpen his mind a little bit more. He remembers the strangest thing: he was fighting with Zoro, actually fighting, and then he was on the receiving end of one of the best blowjobs of his life. 

He gets out of bed and walks to the kitchen. As he pours a glass of water he notices two glasses left out, both sitting on the cabinet. He never leaves glasses out and he never has to use more than one. 

_Definitely not a dream then._

He pads back to the bedroom and wraps himself in the soft sheets. He’s torn between trying to recall exactly how he got Zoro into his apartment and trying to figure out exactly what the fuck he’s going to do next. 

He likes Zoro.

Damn, he really likes Zoro. But everything the two of them have been through so far, which admittedly is not a lot, feels really strange. They don’t have a relationship yet, there’s been none of the awkward “first date conversations,” fuck he doesn’t really know anything about Zoro besides what he’s seen at the dojo and at Nami’s parties. 

He wants to get involved, he wants Zoro to become a part of his life… but those kinds of emotions just seem so damn out of place when Zoro is basically a stranger to him. He resolves to solve that piece of the puzzle and quickly, before things get even more complicated. 

He drifts back to sleep imagining ways to pry information out of Zoro. 

****  


  
Zoro doesn’t show up the next day like he’d promised, and Sanji begins to think that he might be dating the flakiest guy on the planet. Although, “dating” is probably not the word for blowjobs and weird bar meetings. Zoro is absolutely unpredictable and it drives Sanji mad.

Finally Sanji can’t keep the shop open any later; he flips the sign on the door and heads upstairs to his apartment resigning himself to a meal on the couch and probably some old TV reruns. 

Just as he’s pulling pans out to start cooking for himself, his phone rings and “Moss Monster” flashes on the screen.

“We’re really going to have to work on your ability to keep the appointments you make. Where the hell are you?” He answers angrily.

“Shit. I’m sorry about not meeting you today at the restaurant, that’s why I’m calling now obviously.”

“So what’s your excuse this time?” Sanji sighs audibly into the phone. 

“Uh, well I kind of forgot that I was supposed to move into my new apartment today, so I’ve been busy with that. I’m calling you now because it’s late and I’m sure you’re having kittens like the nervous wreck you are.” The voice crackles slightly over the phone. 

“Asshole. You’re like one of those idiot savants, but without the savant part. Who the hell forgets when they’re supposed to move? Have you eaten dinner yet?”

There’s a long pause, and Sanji briefly wonders whether the phone has disconnected before he hears Zoro answer quietly, “No.”

“Say no more idiot. I’m on my way over with food. Text me the address.” He hangs up, not giving Zoro the chance to argue anything. Moments later he receives a text with Zoro’s new address. Or well, the only address he has for the Marimo. 

_That’s not weird is it? Bringing dinner to the guy who blew you last night? Or, worse, was it weird teasing him about not showing up today? Are they at that point, or did that make me seem really needy?_ But no, what is going on between Zoro and Sanji is built very firmly on a foundation of teasing and arguing. It’s probably fine. 

He grabs the ingredients he’d set out for his own dinner, and thoughtfully grabs a few plates as well; Murphy’s Law states that when moving, plates can never be found when food is available. 

It’s a short drive to Zoro’s apartment, and he doesn’t have to wait long at the door before Zoro lets him inside. 

He walks behind Zoro as he’s led into the kitchen. Boxes and tissue paper are scattered everywhere, but the first thing he notices is that Zoro’s apartment is huge. It’s easily twice the size of Sanji’s own, and that’s just what he notices walking from the front door to the kitchen. Sanji sets down his bag of groceries on the island in the middle, _oh god an island I’d kill for one of these in my own house_. 

It’s then that he notices that Zoro is walking around in a tight t-shirt and a pair of low riding sweat-pants showing off two perfect dimples on the lower back. Sanji recalls a past tryst with an art student who gave him the proper name: Dimples of Venus. _Venus my ass, this guy could be Perseus slaying Medusa, or even David_. 

He briefly remembers that he had his hands around those very attention-drawing hips, and he dips his head to unpack the food he’d brought over, also maybe to cover the blush spreading across his cheeks. 

He’s very glad he’d decided on an easy dinner like stir-fry. It means that he can cook everything in one big pan, which is one of the only cooking utensils Zoro had managed to unpack by the time he had arrived. 

As he’s cutting up chicken and water chestnuts, Sanji gets the distinct notion of being watched; the hairs on the back of his neck are standing up uncomfortably. 

He turns around slowly peering through his bangs to find Zoro sitting on the countertop behind him, doing nothing but swinging his legs back and forth. 

“Are you going to sit there and stare at me all night?”

“Nope.”

Sanji sighs, “Are you going to do anything other than that?”

“Not right now.” Zoro is grinning back devilishly at him. Well, two can play that game. Sanji turns around and tries to bring his focus back to the task at hand. 

And yet, he doesn’t want silence. Silence might make things awkward, and they both might end up taking the conversation places Sanji is absolutely sure he doesn’t want to go tonight. Not yet anyway. Things between him and Zoro are new, and if he can’t put a name to whatever is between them, he sure as hell doesn’t want to talk about it right now.

His mind moves with the first topic that crosses his mind, “So this apartment is pretty lavish. What’d you do, kill an old dowager? Hustling pool is a slippery slope to a criminal lifestyle apparently.”

“You’re one to talk with that criminal hairstyle.” Zoro responds, still sitting on the countertop.

“You wouldn’t know style if it bit you on your dirty ass. At least I don’t have mold growing on my head.” Sanji moves from lightly frying vegetables, and checks on the rice cooking in the microwave, which, _god is practically a culinary sin_. He throws everything together in the one large saucepan.

“I’m not the one with eyebrows that are swirly either.”

Sanji can’t even bring himself to come up with a bitter retort for this one. His eyebrows are perfectly fucking normal. He likes them. 

“Bite me, asshole”

“Wow, touchy aren’t we.” Sanji hears Zoro jump off the countertop,

“Fuck you.”

“Don’t make offers if you don’t intend to follow up.” Zoro has now moved and is facing Sanji directly across the kitchen island. 

“Don’t be a lecherous fuckhat. Do you want to eat dinner, or would you rather choke on your teeth?” Sanji moves to grab the plates he’d so thoughtfully packed earlier, _although it’s not like the bastard would notice any kind of pre-mediated thoughtfulness, he’s too busy stroking his own ego_ , and begins spooning out healthy portions of stir fry. 

“Oh were you planning on staying for dinner too?” Zoro asks rhetorically as he grabs the offered plate and moves to sit in front of the couch with two beers in hand. 

“Shut up, this isn’t a delivery service. Besides, even your massive ego can’t put me off of dinner, I haven’t eaten yet.” Sanji takes one of the offered beers and sits down next to Zoro on the floor. 

“So...Want to play twenty questions?”

Zoro almost chokes on his food. “What are you, 13? Why?”

“Generally speaking, I like to know that the guy I’m blowing isn’t, you know, an axe murderer. I thought twenty questions might be an easier way to segue into that conversation." A deep part of Sanji really hopes that Zoro will play along. He really does want to get to know the other man better. Also, on the other hand Zoro might deliver some prime future teasing material. "So, you first: Chip’s Ahoy or Oreo?”

.“Start with the really hard questions why don’t you?" Sanji bites down a smile as Zoro peers thoughtfully over towards him. It does seem like Zoro is going to participate. "Fine, Oreo hands down. But I like the cookie better than the crème.”

Sanji quickly finishes his bite of food before replying to Zoro’s answer.

“That’s positively immoral! It’s the cookie and the crème that makes an Oreo, an Oreo! It’s like dark without light!” Sanji says impassioned. 

“Calm down Socrates, it’s just a cookie. Um,” Zoro pauses, searching, “shit, vegetables or fruit?”

“What kind of shit question is that? I’m a goddamn chef, so both obviously.“ Sanji takes great enjoyment in stretching out his legs, and possibly making the other man squirm.

Sanji hesitates. Does he take the plunge and ask something personal, or continue with inane but fun and light-hearted questions? He catches Zoro looking at him, daring him almost. Sanji's decision is made, he can't back down from a challenge unspoken thought it may be. 

“Alright fine, a real question, Zoro. How did you learn to fight like a goddamn samurai?”

Zoro sighs loudly and Sanji briefly wonders if he’s overstepped the bounds of simple camaraderie before Zoro begins his answer. 

“I had a lot of anger issues as a kid. I went through a lot of shit someone that young shouldn’t have to, and it kind of fucked me up for a while." Zoro answers slowly and haltingly, yet every word is cool and crisp. "My step-dad tried to help, but he could only do so much. One day he dropped me off at the neighborhood gym and told me not to come home until I’d found a better way to punch things. So I signed up for the first fighting class they offered. The swords came later as a gift.

“So, now your turn, where’d you learn to cook?”

Sanji is pretty sure his answer comes forward much easier—cooking is such an ingrained part of who he is. “Ah well, the old man owned a restaurant so I grew up in kitchens and around chefs.I spent too much time dicking around and getting underfoot so they put me to work. And apparently,” he pauses here to take another bite of food, “I have a deeply competitive nature. Which really just means I’m that asshole that has to be the best at whatever I’m doing, which in this case meant cooking. I spent so much time in that place working it probably wasn’t legal. But really, I wouldn’t rather be doing anything else.”

“It probably wasn’t legal, but you do what you have to right?" Zoro interjects, laughing. "Well I don’t know anything about skill, but you ARE an asshole,” 

“God, your wit never ceases to amaze me! How do you think of these comebacks with your minute levels of brain cells? Tell me, why exactly is your hair green?”

“You know, if I wanted to talk to a bitch I’d have gotten a dog. My hair is green because I like it that way. Why are your eyebrows curly, huh?” 

“Wow. My eyebrows are curly because of fucking genetics, you dick.” Sanji pouts. 

“Seems like that gene pool could have used a little chlorine then, curlicue” Zoro retorts. 

“Hey I made you dinner, don’t be fucking rude. Anyway, how DID you get this place? Why did you move?” The topic change is slightly awkward, and Sanji has broken the rules of 20Q by asking two questions, but he’s pretty sure both questions amount to the same answer, and he’s equally sure that Zoro doesn’t care. He also, possibly, wants to move past the surface questions and insults the two are dealing each other. 

. “Well, I was subleasing from Nami, which is like the definition of a terrible living arrangement.” Zoro stretches out his legs in front of him, mirroring Sanji’s own posture

Sanji is about to interject that he doubts living with Nami could possibly be THAT terrible but Zoro holding up a finger quickly cuts him off.

“You don’t know her all that well yet, but Nami is an extremely vengeful and intelligent witch. Don’t ever make the mistake of betting against her. Anyway, it felt weird paying a friend for a bedroom, and this place popped up right after I’d gotten a new job so here I am.”

“A new job?” Sanji can’t help but ask. “Are you not coaching any more, or?”

“Naw, Kendo is great but it’s a side thing. I’m a paralegal, that’s what pays the bills. It’s like a lawyer, but not.”

“So a job that you’re smart enough to have, but not smart enough to describe?” Sanji says smarmily. 

“Shut up. I do all the same shit a lawyer does minus the courtroom arguing and with a slightly smaller salary.” Zoro shrugs one shoulder, as if to communicate everything he feels about his job. 

“Fine whatever. I’m not the one getting defensive about this." They both lapse into a few moments of silence before Sanji speaks up again, "Ah, shit, I forgot whose turn it is.” 

“Mine." Zoro smiles brightly. "How about this: if you could kill any person in the world with no legal ramifications, who would you pick?”

This makes Sanji pause. It’s not a deeply personal question, but it is extremely revealing of character. It’s very clever, and to be honest, he’s not entirely sure how he would answer. Who would he kill? Would he really even kill anyone? Sanji is an angry person, there’s no denying it. He has a short fuse and very little patience—he doesn’t do well with people who don’t mean well to him. But does that mean he’s capable of cold-blooded murder? 

His thoughts flick back to when he was a child; to the man who very nearly succeeded in killing him, but… no. Not only does he really not want to think about that part of his life Sanji is fairly certain that he can’t think about it without falling to pieces, something that he really does not want to do in front of Zoro. Because, Sanji muses, their relationship is clearly not at that point. _You don’t blow someone one day, and swap war stories the next._

“Don’t have an aneurism curly brow, it’s not that serious of a question.” Zoro's voice and shuffling next to him bring Sanji back to the present.

“’No legal ramifications’ trying to act smart now are you?” Sanji huffs in irritation.

Finally he answers, though cautiously, still trying to gather his thoughts. He also wants to answer this question completely honestly, that’s the whole point of the game after all, to learn more about Zoro. He hopes his honesty will be repaid fully in kind. 

“I don’t know for sure that I could kill someone in cold-blood. There are so many extenuating circumstances. Who’s not to say that someone worse off wouldn’t just replace the person I picked? Ideally I’d save the chance, like a get-out-of-jail-free card to protect someone I love,” he trails off.

“But if I HAD to pick someone,” Sanji continues in response to Zoro’s opening mouth, “there is a man who runs a black market weapons trade in this city an ex-girlfriend lives. And from what other rumours I hear he also is in drug manufacturing and human trafficking. He scares the shit out of me; he sounds like such an evil fucker. So him, probably.”

Sanji finishes his answer, and sees Zoro raise an eyebrow at him. Belatedly, he realizes he’d mentioned an ex-girlfriend. 

Fuck. 

That was probably too much information to share. Sanji dearly hopes that the very obvious attraction he has to Zoro is enough to tell the other man that he is definitely not heterosexual. _But, there are other ways to remedy that ship if need be_. 

Surprisingly, Zoro doesn’t mention anything about Sanji’s past relationships. Instead he merely nods adding, “yep, I’ve heard of them: the DonQuixote Family. Their ringleader is a real slimy bastard. He has his fingers in everything, but there’s never enough dirt to pin anything on him. A few months ago my office helped bring down a guy working with him, nicknamed ‘The Clown.’ The guy was cooking up some nasty designer drugs for The Family. The entire organization is a really ugly mob.”

Sanji is amazed that not only are the rumours he’d heard true, but also that Zoro seems to acknowledge his choice as valid. He’s also really surprised that Zoro has some sort of inside perspective on the whole thing. Who the fuck is this guy, really?

“Ok, you brought it up, same question.” Sanji leans back against a heavy box behind him, more relaxed now that he came up with a suitable answer to an important question. 

Suddenly there is a steely glint in Zoro’s eyes, and a smirk plays at his mouth but with no joy behind it. Sanji shivers, feeling like the air between them has just dropped significantly in temperature. He remembers the feeling he got the second time Zoro dropped by All Blue—Zoro is a very dangerous person, and Sanji fervently hopes he never has to be on the receiving end of the malicious power he feels emanating from Zoro. Sanji is slightly terrified, and also slightly aroused. 

“There is a man,” he echoes, “who has done wrong by me." Zoro’s eyes are now focused on something behind Sanji. "He tried to kill me once for the wrong reason and I mean to pay him back in kind.”

Sanji laughs nervously, hoping to dispel the very serious tone the game is now taking on. This seems to surprise Zoro slightly, bringing him back to the present. _Fuck, that was the wrong question to ask._ Sanji watches interestingly as Zoro manages to slip on a mask and slowly return to the easy going, if entirely agonizing, man Sanji knows him to be. “Uh, The Beatles, or Queen?” Zoro chuckles nervously, obviously attempting to steer the conversation into more lighthearted waters with his question.

Sanji gratefully picks up the conversation; eager to get away from anything that changes Zoro’s personality so drastically. He’s too conflicted about whether to run out the door or to take off his pants, and frankly he doesn’t want to have to make that decision. 

“Oh, well Queen obviously. The Beatles took themselves too seriously. I mean would you rather dance to Yellow Submarine or Bohemian Rhapsody? Plus, vocally Freddie Mercury has anybody beat, the man can sing across almost 4 octaves.”

The evening continues in this manner, neither man asks any dramatic or serious questions. And the name calling only escalates when they bicker over whether cricket or curling is the more boring sport: Sanji loathes curling on principle, while Zoro says there are far too many nuances in cricket for it to be considered an actual sport. 

“Besides,” Zoro argues, “There’s no Olympic cricket team.”

“This coming from the man who plays with wooden katana. That’s not exactly an Olympic achievement either.” Sanji retorts. 

After they have both finished eating, Sanji cleans up the kitchen and helps Zoro unpack after very neatly tripping over a poorly misplaced box labeled “glasses and dishes” that mysteriously found its way into the bathroom. 

The two men banter back and forth, joking while sharing small facts about their lives. Sanji is comfortable and thoroughly enjoying himself. It’s the perfect kind of date where nothing is planned and everything goes absolutely smoothly; where two people have nothing to do but enjoy the time spent together. And yeah, this is technically a date.

It’s not until Zoro keeps making jokes about Sanji yawning that he looks at his watch and is astounded by the time; it’s just past midnight. 

He gathers up the few things of his own and heads towards the door. But as his hand wraps around the doorknob, he changes his mind and turns around only to find Zoro standing a few steps behind him. He drops the bag he’s holding and, although he’s ashamed to admit it, practically throws himself at Zoro. 

Zoro responds in kind, meeting Sanji’s lips firmly in kind. Zoro pushes until he has Sanji pressed up against the wall. Sanji loves the mixed feeling of the cool wall against his back and Zoro’s warm hands pressed up against his face. 

Their third kiss is different, slightly desperate and needy. In exactly the opposite way that the nicotine in Sanji’s cigarettes dulls his nerve endings and produces a calm feeling, the touch of Zoro’s lips against his own sends bolts of electricity up and down his spine and a ball of warmth settles just below his lungs. 

And, god save him, Zoro is amazing with his hands. He manages to run one hand all along Sanji’s chest and hips, while another explores his neck and runs through his hair. For his own part, Sanji knows that he’s not a bad kisser. He’s certainly practiced, but kissing Zoro is another matter, it’s an entirely new world compared to past liaisons, and he’s pretty sure Zoro feels the same way. Well, if it’s possible to judge by the quiet moans coming from Zoro’s throat. 

Sanji is certainly not quiet either, and he leans coolly against the wall letting Zoro take control of the kiss while using the chance to savor every lingering taste he can take from the other man’s mouth. He can taste their earlier dinner, but there’s also a slight metallic edge to Zoro’s mouth and it leaves Sanji hungry for more. 

Before the kiss gets any further, and before he does something with the weight of Zoro leaning against him, Sanji ducks out of the kiss and steps away. He peers closely at Zoro breathing deeply. 

“I’m not imagining this am I? Because if I am I’d really like to know now and leave while I’m ahead. I don’t… Have you…” He’s not quite sure exactly how to express what he’s trying to get at. But what Sanji really needs to know is whether Zoro wants him as much as he wants Zoro. Sanji has made the mistake in the past of being in a ‘wait and we’ll see’ relationship. He doesn’t want that again, what he wants, is well… he wants solid and passionate, something he can already feel with Zoro. 

But before he can try to explain himself any further Zoro is kissing him again and Sanji’s mind goes temporarily blank, overwhelmed with trying to keep his lips moving in time with Zoro. Sanji tilts his head up, breaking the kiss again, but not breaking the contact with Zoro. 

As tries to calm his heart rate down a little, a task proving increasingly hard with Zoro’s lips pressed against Sanji’s neck, he makes out a reply.

“You," he pauses, "Are the most infuriating person I’ve ever met. You don’t give me straight answers, you get a kick out of insulting every facet of my life, you have a short temper and you’re a dirty, incurable, perverted flirt.”

Sanji jerks back. This is… not going exactly where he had imagined. 

“Excuse me? I’m not the one who acts like the sun personally worships the ground I walk on. You are an insufferable Neanderthal with no grace or style. This ‘mister-high-and-mighty-hey-you,’ attitude is positively impossible to deal with. At least I’ve got something called personal taste” Sanji practically spits back. Oops. 

Zoro quickly invades his personal space and presses a swollen lip to Sanji’s jawline, effectively cutting off any further remarks he might have about the green haired man’s character.

“Personal taste? Is that what you call it?” Zoro breathes heavily against Sanji’s cheek. 

Zoro continues his assault along Sanji’s neck, whispering, “No, you’re not imagining this at all. It’s really strange what’s happening right? I mean,” and here Zoro steps back and looks Sanji directly in the eye, “When I first met you, you were crude, fascinating, but crude and I wasn’t sure I was ever going to deal with you again. And if we had met anywhere else…” Zoro starts to trail off before deciding on what he wants to say. “But now, this… whatever this is, I’m pretty damn sure about.”

Sanji breathes a deep sigh of relief, and before he can get himself in any more trouble for the night, turns and places a hand on the doorknob. 

“Well, I guess you’re not all bad. I’ll be seeing you around marimo.” He opens the door and steps out.

Zoro laughs behind him. “You certainly will, shitty cook.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yes, the dimples of venus are really called that, and also if you haven't checked out the statue of Perseus with the Head of Medusa by Cellini or Michelangelo's David, you should go see them/research they are two of my favorite renaissance sculptures. (but definitely not how i picture Zoro, it's what the sculptures make you feel when you finally see them in italy kind of thing) 
> 
> this chapter took me a long time to write, and a long time to finally be happy with, i hope you liked it! also it really means a lot to me that you've stuck around for this little cathartic writing experience. 
> 
> i will say that after this chapter Sanji and Zoro's life kind of goes to shit. i've changed the warnings to explicit, and the road will be intense and dark further on. if that's not your deal and all you want is cute domestic zosan (i cannot blame you) stop here, because that is not where this fic is heading. but if you want to keep reading you will make my week/month/year!! x


	11. August Woes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmm warning for slight child abuse and ptsd. let me know how you feel about this chapter with comments and kudos! x

August has always been a bad month for Sanji. 

The oppressive heat and bright light that bathes everything in a warm summer glow reminds him too much of tragedies in his childhood that he’d rather forget. It’s something like seasonal affect disorder, with the added bonus of painful flashbacks and a pain in his abdomen that never goes away. He’s not even sure how his body remembers the exact time of year he spent on the verge of death, but every year like clockwork he stops functioning properly for an entire month. 

He ends up spending way too much time in bed, unconsciousness being preferable to constantly shaking off the feeling of impending doom the end of summer brings for him. Which is why he’s already in bed when Zoro comes home after work. 

He had tried today, he really had. He’d woken up in the morning, put in a decent day at All Blue. No catering orders for the day, but business had picked up as word had magically spread around town. He’d closed down early after about an hour of no customers, he wasn’t able to stand being alone with his thoughts. Going back to Zoro’s hadn’t been the best idea since he was alone there as well. Zoro had given him the key to his apartment almost a month ago, Sanji had begun insisting on making breakfast for the both of them after noticing that Zoro was spending his lunch hours at All Blue complaining of hunger.

He’d walked into Zoro’s apartment and unable to deal with his nervous energy had cleaned the kitchen (twice) and baked three different quiches and a pie before exhaustion made him crawl into Zoro’s bed for a nap. 

Which is where Zoro finds him that night. 

“Really you’re in bed already?” Zoro’s soft voice and lips pressed his neck against wake Sanji up, although to be honest he’s not even sure whether he was sleeping in the first place. 

“Hmm. You’re home. Dinner is staying warm in the oven, go eat.” Sanji rolls over, his eyes adjusting to the light in the room. 

“I’d noticed. Really cook, four different pies?” Zoro’s mouth continues to trace fine lines on Sanji’s neck. 

Sanji sits up and rubs his face, trying to physically scratch out his exhaustion. “Three of them are quiche. I couldn’t decide what flavor you’d like the best, so I tried a few different things.”

A hand on his chest pushes him back down. Still too tired to do much else, Sanji curls around Zoro and rests his head on the wide chest now underneath him. 

“Something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong moss head. How was work?”

“You’re avoiding the question, jerk. What’s going on with you?”

“What makes you so sure that something is the matter, asshole? You’re wrong as usual though. I’m fine, promise!” Sanji is massaging his own hand; making four pastry crusts had been hard on his muscles today. 

Sanji feels Zoro sigh underneath him, and he’s surprised when a pair of warm hands takes over the job of working out the muscle cramp in his wrist. 

“’Fine’ doesn’t mean taking 6 days off of work this month. ‘Fine’ doesn’t mean sleeping all day, don’t think I haven’t noticed. ‘Fine’ doesn’t mean cooking up an actual hurricane. I’m not a man to complain but you’ve been cooking a LOT of food. And I’m pretty sure I’ve gained ten pounds this month alone from the amount of stuff you’ve been frying and the amount of butter you’re going through. Now spill cook. What’s going on with you?” 

Zoro’s hands are doing wonders to Sanji’s arms and his stress level. He’s becoming putty in his boyfriend’s hands. 

But he doesn’t want to tell Zoro. He doesn’t think he CAN tell Zoro. For one thing, he and Zoro are close, but Sanji isn’t sure if they are that close. For another, he’s never told anyone the whole story. Not a single soul except Zeff knows what he went through, and Sanji is pretty sure that Zeff had another source. He’s not even sure where to begin; his problems started long before he even knew the name Krieg. 

He’s not sure he can get the whole story out. Zoro seems to sense his hesitation and has moved to running his fingers through Sanji’s floppy blonde hair. Sanji’s scalp tingles as blood begins to rush through his head. 

He’s never tried talking through his August Woes before, and he really doesn’t want Zoro feeling sorry for him. 

“I’ve never really talked about it before.”

A quiet grunt from Zoro is the only response he gets. He can’t do this; it’s too hard to go back through. He moves to sit up again, but Zoro pulls him back down with a tight hand in his hair. 

“Talk, idiot.”

Sanji takes a deep breath. 

“Do you know what it’s like to starve?” His voice is quiet and he hates it, he doesn’t want to seem weak. 

Zoro doesn’t reply to the rhetorical question. 

“I mean really starve. People joke about it all the time, ‘oh I haven’t eaten all day, I’m starving’ you know. But they don’t really know. They don’t know what it’s like to sit and not be able to move because you’re so fucking hungry. 

“The first couple of days aren’t bad. The body usually has enough quick energy stored to keep you through a couple of days. I mean your stomach hurts like a bitch, but it’s ok.”

He wants to leave the room; he wants to be anywhere but back in that cell. He grabs one of Zoro’s hands and moves his fingers down Zoro’s lifeline. 

“But then, you can’t think of anything else. I mean you literally can’t think of anything but getting food inside of you. And it’s terrible, because now you can’t actually stomach the thought of food being inside of you but your brain won’t shut up about how much you need food.

“There’s kind of a genius mechanism for surviving starvation, did you know? Your body will actually start to digest itself. It starts with the little fat you’ve got stored, yeah even on you, you muscled asshole. So it starts with the fat, and that’s fine, you can survive losing fat. But then it moves to your muscle, you actually start losing muscle mass and strength because your body realizes that it doesn’t have anything else to eat.”

He can’t help it, but he laughs out loud now. The idea of muscles being decayed is morbidly funny to him. Maybe he’s finally cracked.

“So now, you’re fucking starving and your brain won’t let you forget it. You dream, asleep or not, of getting your hands on bacon, or god BREAD, but you can’t think straight. You really can’t. You can’t sleep but that’s all you want to do, you get the most god-awful headache, and at one point its so fucking hard to even keep your eyes open. That’s when you first start thinking that you actually might die of hunger: that one morning you just won’t wake up because your heart has given out because you don’t have any energy left. And it’s scary because you don’t really care; anything is probably better than feeling your stomach digest itself. All you want to do is jump up and run towards the nearest kitchen but you can’t because your body is literally eating itself and you don’t have the fucking muscle mass to support even standing up!”

Sanji laughs again, but this time it’s in a weird sort of self-defense, he doesn’t know what else to do. He feels Zoro’s muscles tense underneath him. God, how long has he been talking? He can’t do this. He can’t talk about this anymore. 

But if there’s one thing Zoro is good at, it’s making Sanji feel safe. He doesn’t want to talk, but even just laying on top of Zoro is cathartic. Zoro makes him feel like maybe he can do this. He pauses before taking a new route to the story. 

“I told you my parents moved here from France? So my father was actually a teacher. But then he moves here and he’s suddenly not got the right credentials, he can’t hide his thick accent, and now he can’t teach. He starts working in this factory on the edge of town, it’s hard work but it’s work and there’s food on the table. Until suddenly, the factory closes, right? It’s so fucking cliché. So he’s out of work and wondering how he’s going to provide for his family. He tries a few odd jobs, but everyone else is fucking out of work too and he can’t do a damn thing about anything so he drinks. And he drinks, and he starts hitting me, which is fine, I don’t care what the guy does as long as he stays away from my mother.

“Until he literally spends his last bit of money on alcohol. So he starts borrowing money from the local mobsters because the man’s a fucking idiot and he’s desperate, right? He can’t pay anything back, so when the bill collector comes to town, who do you think he grabs?”

Zoro moves to sit up and Sanji feels arms wrap tight around him. He thinks he might be shaking, but he’s already said so much he doesn’t think he can stop now. In a way telling his story is liberating. It hurts to talk, but now that he’s started he’s vomiting up words. 

“Well I’m like eight, but I’m a tough little brat and I kind of know my way around a brawl. I don’t let them take my mother; she doesn’t have any hand in any of this, she tried her best, you know? She didn’t think she’d wind up moving from France with a kid she can’t feed and married to a drunken bastard. 

“So they take me, and it’s ok because they’re nice to me at first. Well, nice enough. Then my piece of shit father refuses to pay back what he owes, or rather he’s drunk all of the money he owes twice over and he can’t pay it back. The mob doesn’t want to have anything to do with me after that. They throw me in the basement of the abandoned factory. I’m fine for like, a week maybe? One of Krieg’s guy brings me table scraps and a bottle of water every day, tells me that they’ll let me out soon. I was young enough to believe him. Then either the mob skips town, or the guy forgets about me, I don’t know which, but suddenly it’s day five and I haven’t eaten anything.”

Oh god, he’s going to cry. He doesn’t want to, crying will make this real, crying will just suck him back into that basement. He takes a deep breath, and a reassuring hand is placed on Sanji’s shoulder.

“It could have been worse. There was a small window in the basement that I managed to crack open and it left a nice puddle on the floor when it rained; I had water. But… But.”

He doesn’t know where to go from here. Suddenly he’s right back in that basement, and a pang of hunger goes straight through them. 

Zoro’s arms wrap tighter around him. “Shh, it’s ok, you don’t have to tell me more. You’re okay.”

Zoro’s words are reassuring, and Sanji manages to continue shakily. 

“Zeff found me, the old bastard. I guess somehow he heard me crying, or something. I never did ask him exactly what happened that day. But I do know he damn near managed to tear down a cement wall by himself.”

Sanji’s laughs at the mental image of his adoptive father kicking down cinder blocks. 

“It’s like this every year Zoro. I can’t stop it. Somehow I remember what it was like, and I can’t do anything. I’m so tired, and I’m so hungry all the time. I don’t know how to live like this.”

He’s crying now, even though he promised himself that he wouldn’t. Sanji turns around and buries his head into Zoro’s chest, sure that his salty tears are going to leave stains in Zoro’s shirt. He doesn’t care. He just has the overwhelming need to be held, a need that Zoro readily answers. 

They stay like that until Sanji is no longer crying, and only the occasional sob wracks through his body leaving him shaking. Zoro hasn’t moved and he hasn’t tried to offer sympathy or pity—something that Sanji will be grateful for, as soon as he stops feeling sorry for himself. 

He lets himself slip into deep unconsciousness still wrapped tightly in Zoro’s arms to whispers of “shhh, you’re all right now.” 

When he wakes up after about an hour, Sanji is still nuzzled into Zoro’s chest, only now the idiot is passed out as well. Trying to gently wake Zoro up, Sanji pokes him, to little success. 

“Zoro. Zoro, wake up.”

He probably should not have said anything because Zoro sits up immediately taking Sanji with him, wrapped in his arms like a teddy bear. Zoro is peering around the room looking rather startled.

“Sanji? Are you okay, what happened?”

Sanji laughs, he didn’t mean to make Zoro worried for him. “I’m hungry. I never ate dinner.”

Zoro grumbles next to him, but Sanji is slowly able to pry free of the cage of arms wrapped about him.

They walk slowly into the kitchen together. The oven is still on warming mode, and the quiches and pie sitting inside don’t seem to be too harmed. 

Sanji and Zoro eat in companionable silence, with the occasional mumble of ‘yumm’ and ‘pass the water pitcher please.’ Sanji can almost pretend that he didn’t just pour out his soul to the man seated across from him. Almost. 

As Sanji’s head begins to dip from exhaustion, he stands up and Zoro leads him by the hand back to the bedroom. 

He lies down and takes several shaky, but deep, breaths before he realizes that Zoro has lifted up his shirt and is slowly places kisses along his side. 

“Zoro, stop. I don’t think I have the energy for this tonight, I’m sorry.”

Zoro continues methodically covering Sanji’s stomach with kisses and small bites. “Shh, it’s ok,” he whispers. “Let me do this for you. Please.”

Sanji doesn’t want to say no. He and Zoro have been, well ‘dating’ for a little more than three months and everything has been nearly perfect. Sure the two of them fight all the time, no really, all the time about everything, but it certainly helps that their fights usually end up dissolving into really hot sex.

Zoro is passionate in everything he does, and activities in bed are absolutely no exception. It’s a big struggle between the two of them, and neither goes easy on the other. Sex isn’t just the two of them joined together, but a battle of spirits. Sanji regularly leaves Zoro’s house covered in bite mark and scratches; the sex is mind-blowing, but it’s rough. Zoro know exactly how to bend and break Sanji into a million little pieces and it’s the best thing Sanji has ever had going for him. 

But tonight… tonight Sanji is absolutely physically and emotionally exhausted. He doesn’t have the energy to wrestle against Zoro’s advances nor the stamina to be anything more than absolute putty under Zoro’s mouth. 

Zoro must sense his reluctance, because the other man whispers against Sanji’s skin, “It’s ok, you don’t have to do anything, just let me take control.”

Somehow that’s exactly what Sanji needs tonight: someone to take control and tell him that he’s going to be ok. Someone to carve into his bones a reminder that he survived and that he’s strong. 

So he lets go. 

And it’s strange to see this different side of Zoro, to see him actually being gentle. Sanji knows that Zoro is capable of many different things, and he knows down to the very fiber of his being that Zoro is not exactly a safe person to be around. So for Zoro to just barely be touching him, to be caressing Sanji, is a very extreme change of pace. 

He feels a mouth ghost across his ribcage, and Sanji sums up a burst of energy that allows him to divest Zoro of his shirt. Sanji takes his comfort in the form of running his hands all along Zoro’s chest and back. It doesn’t take long before both he and Zoro are naked atop the comforter. 

While there’s absolutely no world in which backbreaking sex ever becomes routine, Sanji is becoming used to his life with Zoro. They see each other in between work and various other commitments. They both come home tired, Sanji makes dinner, and when one or both is in the mood, they fuck. It’s amazing and Sanji would never trade any of it for the world. Zoro just brings out certain qualities from within him, and makes him feel like he belongs in the mess of the world. Zoro overwhelms all of Sanji’s senses on a deeply personal level, down to his very soul. 

And yet, occasionally there are the nights where Sanji needs a little bit more. Having Zoro seated deep within him is certainly fulfilling, but there are times when all Sanji needs is to be held. There are times when all Sanji would like to do is to curl into a ball and dissolve himself within Zoro’s warmth and comforting mass. There are nights when Sanji still feels alone in bed with the other man. He wants to be comforted, he wants more opportunity to touch, and occasionally he misses the newness and exploration that comes with a brand new relationship. 

So this Zoro, the one who is playing Sanji like harp, the Zoro who is providing every ounce of comfort Sanji had ever wished for, this Zoro Sanji could say he is in love with. Maybe. 

Zoro is still gently caressing him, and it doesn’t take long before Sanji is a whimpering mess, begging Zoro to move things along. For once, Zoro actually agrees and breaks contact with Sanji to grab a bottle of lube and a condom from the bedside table. 

Sanji closes his eyes and tries to keep him body relaxed, it’s the only thing he can do to stay calm, and he knows it’s the only way that Zoro will move on to the next step in bed. 

As a finger slowly runs down his bottom, Sanji prepares for the usual cold shock that accompanies this preparation, but no, Zoro had actually taken the time to warm the lube in his hands. 

As a finger runs around his entrance, Sanji can’t help but moan softly, he wants this, he needs this, and he’s so enjoying this new tender side of Zoro. 

Then there are two fingers inside him, moving slowly together, scissoring and gently drawing pleasure from both parties. Suddenly the angle between them is right and a finger brushes against his prostate sending sparks all over Sanji’s body and causing him to cry out. 

“Zoro, please.”

And then Zoro is inside him, warm and insistent, but not yet moving giving Sanji time to adjust to the still foreign feeling of Zoro overloading every single one of his senses. 

Sanji leans up slightly to kiss Zoro, and he feels Zoro move deeply and slowly within him. Everything in this moment is absolutely perfect, and Sanji forgets that he ever felt weak, that he ever was anything less than what he is feeling right now in this moment. 

Still being gentle, Zoro begins to set a faster but erratic pace in an effort to prolong the encounter. Sanji moans and whimpers in absolute ecstasy and Zoro responds in kind with a deep humming and breathless pants against Sanji’s neck. A hand around Sanji’s chest plays with a nipple and Sanji gasps at the stimulation. 

Minutes pass, maybe hours, Sanji doesn’t know, he’s lost in the bliss of sex and the warm and soft overloading of his senses. His brain cannot possibly focus on anything other than Zoro. Slowly but surely he can feel his orgasm building within him, and Zoro’s deep breaths and occasional low growl tell him that his partner isn’t far behind him. 

As Zoro’s deep and slow thrusts continued to brush up against his prostate, Sanji loses himself. He thinks that his bones liquefy, and his mind temporarily leaves his body. Lost momentarily, he grabs for the closest thing to him and pushes Zoro’s head against his shoulders. He feels Zoro continue to press inside him, and a hand gently wraps around his cock pulsing gently to match Zoro’s thrusts. Together they cry out, and Sanji wraps his arms tightly around his partner and shudders uncontrollably; his mind becomes startlingly clear as waves of intense pleasure move up and down his body leaving him gasping for air. 

He feels Zoro leave him briefly to throw the comforter off the bed, and after making a brief and semi-successful attempt to wash himself Sanji rolls softly into unconsciousness with his head tucked softly against Zoro. 

***

Sanji is the first to wake in the morning. He usually is, after years of spending the dawn hours in the kitchen preparing breakfast. But instead of being jarred uncomfortably into an awoken state, he opens his eyes slowly, and still pleasantly drowsy lies in bed listening to the comforting sound of Zoro snoring. He stays in bed, enjoying the way the sun hit’s Zoro tanned and muscled back. Dust motes float softly through the air, undisturbed, leaving the room bathed in a soft ambiance. Once fully awake, Sanji climbs slowly out of bed making sure not to wake his lover. He gathers his clothes and heads to the shower to ruminate over everything that happened in the past 24 hours. 

Before he leaves to return to his own apartment and All Blue, Sanji leaves breakfast for Zoro warming in the oven and a note on the counter with a sappily drawn heart. 

The next few days pass by mainly in a blur. Still reeling off of the lightness sharing his August Woes has given him, Sanji spends his time cooking up new recipes and throwing himself into his work. He’s not avoiding Zoro by any means; the green haired idiot stops by All Blue several times for lunch and dinner. Sanji just needs a little time to himself, time to reorganize his thoughts, time to spend trying to stop feeling sorry for his self. He thinks that maybe the rest of the month might be a little bit easier to get through. He’s not over the hump of whatever he’s suffering from, but maybe, just maybe, he’s making progress and beginning to heal. 

Sanji also takes the time to evaluate his relationship with Zoro. No one else has ever made him feel so safe, no one besides Zeff has ever given him a place to belong. Sanji has definitely and irrevocably become attached to Zoro; he’s fallen hard. 

And maybe, just maybe, Zoro is beginning to feel more like a person around him. Sanji has seen less and less of ‘dangerous Zoro,’ almost to the point that he usually forgets about the small part of his brain telling him to always be cautious. 

He’s got it bad. Zoro has done things for him that no one else has ever been able to, Zoro has understood Sanji in ways that he wasn’t sure anyone would ever be able to. It’s almost perfect. 

Almost. 

After a week of minimal contact with the outside world, and a lot of time in self-reflection, Sanji is able to resume his normal routine of life. He is working the full schedule at All Blue, finally able to take multiple catering orders a day, he’s able to stay up later with Zoro, and he has more energy for other physical activities. 

It’s the last day of August, an early Saturday morning, when Sanji decides to start cooking breakfast for Zoro again. He hasn’t spent the night since that night and he hasn’t quite had the energy reserves to spend his morning travelling between Zoro’s apartment and All Blue. Admittedly, Zoro had shown up early at Sanji’s place for a quick breakfast a few times, but this is a very firm step in the direction of normalcy. 

As usual, Zoro is not awake when Sanji lets himself into the apartment. Sanji is usually more than halfway through with cooking by the time the moss head is able to drag himself out of bed to the smell of food and coffee. Sanji rustles around the kitchen quietly as he makes Zoro’s favorite omelet, surprising himself when he discovers he’s been softly humming the entire time. 

When the omelets are finished, the table is set, and the coffee has been poured, Zoro is still not awake, so Sanji heads down the hallway leading to the bedroom still humming. 

He stops abruptly when he realizes that there are two people in Zoro’s bed. 

Sanji’s mind goes blank, unable to comprehend what exactly is going on. There are two people in Zoro’s bed. Two people, and he is not one of them. He is not in bed with Zoro, someone else is. 

Horrified, Sanji gasps sharply and the door bangs against the wall with the force of being opened. He wants to rip the covers off the bed, confront Zoro and the intruder but his feet don’t move. Sanji cannot do anything but stand in the doorway and make incomprehensible noises. 

Someone under the comforter moves and a dark head pops up from underneath. “Oh good morning Sanji. Did you make breakfast?” Luffy asks. 

Luffy speaking releases Sanji from his shock. He turns around and storms out of the apartment only stopping briefly to grab his coat and keys before slamming the door behind him. 

As he walks out to his car, he can hear Zoro calling after him, possibly pleading. 

“Sanji, wait goddamnit! Please come back! Shit!”

But Sanji doesn’t care; he’s already driving off, leaving his heart dead in the doorway of Zoro’s bedroom. 

August is never a good month for Sanji.


	12. A Lesson In Fighting (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i guess there was a little bit of confusion about the last chapter, and why Sanji ran away. my whole opinion on the matter is that Sanji doesn't really know Luffy well, he's not officially part of the 'crew' yet. and since he was still feeling emotionally raw, with an added side of low self worth, the first thing he did was run; relationships are new to both of them, he wasn't quite sure how to deal with an emotional betrayal- anything else and Zoro might have several new broken bones. BUT hopefully this chapter will help clear a few things up. hope you enjoy! -x

Zoro walks into All Blue, desperately trying to think of something to say to Sanji. How the fuck is he going to explain this? It’s probably better to stick with the truth, but he’s not sure he would believe the truth were the roles reversed. 

Sanji is baking—never a good sign. He’s learned from experience that the cook has a bad habit of using baking for distraction. It’s the only food Sanji makes that Zoro can never bring himself to enjoy. Sanji can bake a mean cake, but if he bakes while anxious Zoro can taste the worry layered in every sugar granule. It’d be cute if it were anyone else but his cook. That’s right, HIS fucking cook. And now Zoro feels guilty; the cook is baking because of something he’s done. 

It’s not the first time Zoro has fucked up; being in a relationship is still pretty new to him. He forgets things, buys the wrong things, shows up late, and he still refuses to tell Sanji exactly what goes on during his weekend trips with the crew (Sanji still isn’t over that, and Zoro always comes home to a plate full of cookies sitting on the table. The cook has been pretty inventive lately; last time Sanji had made frosted gingerbread men with suspiciously missing limbs.) But that’s not the point, this is the first time that Sanji hasn’t tried to fight it out physically with him. It’s the first time he’s actually given Sanji a reason to leave him and he can’t bear the thought. 

He also feels guilty for not rushing right behind Sanji. He had a few other things to deal with, namely a very confused and sleepy Luffy, but also the giant hole in the wall Sanji had apparently kicked out of anger and frustration.

“Sanji wait, can I please explain?”

When Sanji doesn’t respond Zoro knows that he is really in trouble. Sanji is never quiet, and he never passes out on an opportunity to yell at Zoro. This is bad (he’s really got it bad for Sanji). 

Zoro puts his hands up in what he hopes is a peaceful gesture. “Sanji please, it’s not what it looks like.”

Sanji scoffs, still keeping his back to him. Zoro is only slightly grateful, he isn’t sure he wants to see the anger he knows is crossing Sanji’s face, but shit everything is his fault. 

“It’s...” Zoro begins, but a phone ringing from the front of the shop cuts him off. 

“Out of the way motherfucker, I have a business to run” Sanji says coldly, pushing past Zoro while heading to the front serving counter. 

The interruption gives Zoro the chance to gather his thoughts. Crap, he really needs to fix this and he’s not entirely sure how. 

Admittedly, Zoro had been really surprised to see Luffy. It had been a while since Luffy had last asked to spend the night, probably since before he’d officially begun dating Sanji. But when Luffy needed comforting Zoro would never say no, it’s something the two of them have been doing since they first met. 

What had also surprised Zoro was Sanji showing up in the morning. The curlicue cook hadn’t made breakfast at his apartment in two weeks. It’s not like he was trying to hide anything from Sanji, Zoro just had not had the opportunity to explain his unique relationship with Luffy. Sanji had also been off all month, and Zoro had tried to give him the space he needed during the month (although the space had been hard to give). Zoro could tell that Sanji needed time to recuperate and heal, so he’d backed off of the relationship with a while, which he supposes, is probably a contributing factor to why Sanji is so terribly upset with him (and really the whole situation is really fucking terrible). 

He hears Sanji end the phone call, and he steels himself in preparation of a sordid explanation. But Sanji marches back into the kitchen already yelling at close to full volume. 

“No, you know what, FUCK that ‘it’s not what it looked like’ business. It is exactly what it looked like. I found you in bed with another guy it’s really simple! God, you’re an insufferable asshole! This is the reason why I don’t trust people! I’ve told you things I’ve never told anyone else! A little heads up might have been nice you know: ‘hey Sanji by the way I’ve got a fuck buddy on the side. You’ve met him, he’s my best friend!” Sanji mocks. 

He continues on his rant, “Then I could have been done before things got fucking serious. I should have just listened to that little part of my brain that kept whispering ‘no Sanji he’s dangerous.’ FUCK YOU. I should have kicked your ass halfway to the moon by now. Leave before I change my mind on rearranging your stupid face.” Sanji ends his yelling with a hard kick to a cardboard box, sending it flying clear across the kitchen. 

Yeah, ok. Zoro deserved all of that. Sanji has every single right to be angry with him. But wait… 

“Wait you really think I’m dangerous?” he murmurs. That is not what Zoro wants at all (what he really wants is Sanji). 

“What? What the hell kind of question is that? Have you looked at yourself in a mirror? You’re not exactly the cuddly type of guy. You look like you can throw me down the block, you’re not a goddamn teddy bear. Why am I explaining this? Why haven’t you fucked off yet? Get the hell out of my kitchen!” Sanji roars. 

Shit. Either Sanji is an extremely perceptive guy, or the mask Zoro carefully built over the years is dissolving. This is not where he wanted the conversation to be going. 

“Sanji, I would never hurt you, please believe that” Zoro whimpers. 

“Well guess what, dickbag. You did.” Sanji paces around the kitchen repeatedly kicking the same cardboard box around. He moves to slamming cabinet doors as he puts dishes and utensils away. Zoro can hear Sanji muttering in French. Sanji only ever does that when he’s getting his brains fucked out—this is new, and Zoro is obviously in deep shit. 

“God! You motherfucker! It’s like, yeah, we fight all the time sure! But the moment you actually do something wrong and terrible you still treat it like a joke!” Sanji spits out. “This isn’t something you can just laugh away, or cover up with another insult. You. Fucked. Up.” A finger pointed repeatedly in Zoro’s direction punctuates the last words. 

Zoro lets Sanji continue kicking and stumbling out his anger. He doesn’t want to deal with the blonde while he’s in a blind rage, and honestly there’s very little Sanji could say to actually wound Zoro, (he’s not the one hurt in this situation after all). He neatly sidesteps out of the way as Sanji kicks the cabinet next to him. 

“Oh you’re still here? God, if you say another word that isn’t some kind of brilliant explanation for this goddamn mess, I swear to god you will be crawling out of this shop. Also if I don’t like your explanation. And possibly because I’m just feeling like it. I’m not even sure why you’re still standing here, I should have killed you before you had the chance to wake up,” Sanji says scathingly, pointedly not looking at Zoro.

“Are you done throwing a hissy fit now?”

Sanji turns around and throws a death glare at him simultaneously raising his leg in a dangerous way. Zoro returns the gesture with a shrug, not breaking eye contact. 

“Waiting on an answer, Benedict,” Sanji says inching closer to Zoro.

Zoro doesn’t get the reference. “Oh please. Calm the fuck down. Luffy is ace, there is nothing between us. He literally just slept in my bed.”

Sanji raises a curled eyebrow, and shakes his head. He aims a kick at Zoro’s chest, but misses as Zoro neatly dodges. “Ace is Luffy’s brother, I’ve met him before. I can tell the difference between them, and that still doesn’t explain a goddamn thing.”

Zoro can’t help but laugh. He probably could have worded that better (he could have worded a lot of things better). 

“Sure, go ahead and laugh it off like you always do, asshole.” Another kick is aimed his way and Zoro backs up carefully to a different side of the kitchen. In response Sanji places both hands on the countertop in front of him and hangs his head in apparent defeat. Zoro knows better than to walk over there though every muscle in his body is screaming to do just that. He’s quite fond of his shins and doesn’t relish the idea of a foot-sized bruise on his leg. 

“No, no. I’m sorry. Luffy is ace, as in asexual, as in he doesn’t do sex. I promise there is nothing between us like that.” Zoro explains. 

Sanji’s head perks up slightly, enough for Zoro to see him mouth out ‘doesn’t do sex,’ apparently trying to process Zoro’s words. 

Zoro’s chest tightens, and he takes in a deep breath. He can do this. He can fix this. Sanji will understand. 

“Yeah, I mean,” Zoro runs one hand through his hair, “I’m not gonna pretend to understand everything that goes through that guys head, he’s a mess. But I’ve known him for a really long time and he’s always been like that; he just doesn’t feel that way about people, everything is platonic.”

Sanji doesn’t respond or move, so Zoro just keeps talking. 

“When I first met him, I didn’t quite get it either. But Luffy has never been anything other than honest with me. Even though he doesn’t want to sleep with anybody, he still gets lonely. He’s been through some rough shit in his life too and sometimes he just needs a shoulder to lean his head on. So occasionally he calls me up, or calls someone else in the crew and asks to spend the night. That’s all he does. It’s actually really endearing and kind of hard to say no to.” 

Zoro pauses, both to take a deep breath and to gage Sanji’s reaction. The other man still hasn’t said anything, but his posture is much more relaxed, less defensive. There’s nothing for Zoro to physically do so he keeps talking, though he’s unused to using so many words to explain himself, taciturn as he is by nature (insults being the exception).

“I didn’t tell you, not because I didn’t think it was important, but because it hasn’t happened in a while. He surprised me last night by just showing up at midnight. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to call you and for that I’m sorry.”

That’s it. He’s said all he can and he’s told nothing but the truth. It’s up to Sanji to just believe him. He really hopes Sanji believes him. 

“So that’s it, he just crashes at your place?” Sanji croaks out. 

“That’s it,” Zoro confirms. 

“I-I, I need time to think about this. I still oughta kick in all of your ribs for you putting me through this. I’ve gotta process this. Who the fuck has a side platonic cuddly buddy? I guess, knowing luffy though…” He pauses. “I’ve got a busy day today though and I’d like to not be cleaning your blood up off the floor. I’m still not happy,” he states pointedly.

If there’s anything Zoro is willing to give Sanji, it’s time. 

“Sure. I mean, take your time, and your space. I’m going to leave now, and I won’t come back today. But, uh, please call me. Please?”

Sanji doesn’t say anything, only turns around and starts rattling pans around in one of the cabinets. Zoro takes this as a dismissal. He heads out the shop, and drives back home, praying the entire drive that Sanji calls him. 

***

Later that afternoon, Zoro shows up at Luffy’s house. 

“Luffy we need to talk!” He shouts through the closed door he’s currently banging on. 

The door cracks open, and Sanji can see Luffy peer through the door looking bleary eyed and wearing only a ragged pair of shorts. 

“Oh hey Zoro! Did you get the chance to talk to Sanji? He left this morning in a hurry.”

“Yeah it will probably be ok. Let me in though, we need to talk.” Or rather, Zoro really hopes that everything will be okay (although ‘okay’ is probably asking for a lot). 

Zoro shuffles through the front door and quickly deposits himself on the sofa in the living room. He doesn’t elaborate on the situation any further, both because he’s not sure exactly what to say, but also because one of the nice things about Luffy is that he never demands an explanation; Zoro doesn’t have to say anything. 

He’s sitting on the couch, legs spread out in front of him while Luffy sits next to him upside down with his head on the floor. Hundreds of thoughts are going through Zoro’s head but he can’t seem to get the words out, he’s too busy worrying about what Sanji is thinking. He’s also nervous because he hasn’t exactly been truthful with Luffy, he hasn’t ever said that he’s involved with Sanji, that they have been dating for the past three months. 

Thankfully it’s Luffy that breaks the silence first. 

“You really like him don’t you?”

Goddamn, he always forgets how freakishly perceptive Luffy can be. Always knowing what’s going on in particular moments.

“Like him? I hate the bastard. He’s rude, and snotty and he can’t keep his eyes to himself when we’re out in public. And he leaves his fussy ties and button-downs all over my place.” Zoro sighs. “But yeah, I do have a thing for him. I guess I never ‘officially’ mentioned it to you.”

“I’m not stupid, you know,” Luffy shrugs. “I’ve seen the way you look at each other. And you’re always hanging around each other. I did notice.”

“Luffy, you can’t just show up randomly at my place anymore. Not while Sanji is around at least.”

“S’Ok I understand, I think. Although maybe I’ll just find myself in the middle eventually,” Luffy giggles.

“Idiot, that’s not exactly how that works.” Zoro’s heart feels a little lighter; at least Luffy is helping to keep his mind off of the fight earlier. But speaking of fighting and Luffy…

“Luffy, you’ve got to clear him. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this secret and I can’t guarantee that I can keep Sanji out of this.” 

A huge grin spreads across Luffy’s face. 

“Hehehe, I had Robin check him out ages ago! He’s totally clean, I thought you knew!” Luffy rights himself and sits cross-legged on the couch facing Zoro and still smiling. 

“What? You mean I’ve been lying to him about our weekends this entire time? Ugh Luffy!” Zoro aims a backhanded slap at Luffy’s arm.

“It’s not my fault you’re too dense to notice how everyone else treats him. He’s nakama now, I’ve decided.” Luffy says slowly. “I like him. He’s here to stay. Also he always cooks my favorite foods, so please don’t make him mad.”

Zoro huffs in semi frustration. “What do you think I’m trying to do?” 

The two of them sit on the couch in silence for a little longer, Zoro still trying to think of ways he can try to win Sanji back if the blonde doesn’t call, and honestly who even knows what thoughts run across Luffy’s brain?

The silence is interrupted by Luffy’s phone ringing, although it takes a while for Luffy to find it hidden within the couch cushions. 

“It’s Sanji,” Luffy mutters before answering the phone and putting it on speaker for Zoro to hear.

“This is Monkey D. Luffy.”

 _“Hey Luffy. It’s Sanji.”_ Over the phone Sanji’s voice sounds slow and less colorful than Zoro knows it to be. 

“Sanji! Hey, you left this morning without making me enough food! That wasn’t very nice.” Luffy pouts, obviously taking offense at losing a meal opportunity. Which is funny, because technically it was Luffy’s fault that Sanji took off so quickly this morning. 

_“You know Luffy, what isn’t nice is finding another person in bed with my boyfriend. I think you’ll forgive me for not sticking around to indulge your gluttonous appetite.”_

Sanji just said ‘my boyfriend.’ It’s childish but it makes the tips of Zoro’s ears turn red, maybe hope isn’t lost. Zoro and Sanji will be ok. 

“Hehehe. Yeah, I guess that would be a little weird. But Sanji, you know that Zoro only likes you right?” Luffy babbles into the phone. 

_“Yeah he said something like that… and that there wasn’t anything between you two?”_ Sanji’s voice is quiet and questioning, and in the silence the phone crackles loudly. 

“Zoro is nakama if that’s what you’re asking.” Luffy explains slowly and simply. 

_“Ha, yeah I guess that’s exactly what I’m asking.”_ Zoro can practically see the shrug and a cigarette between lips as Sanji’s voice travels through the speaker. 

_“Luffy, this isn’t… what do you do on those weekends when you both disappear? I mean is this something that I should be expecting more often?” ___

__“Sanji you like Zoro right?” Luffy deflects the question._ _

_“He may be the most irritating bastard on the face of earth, but he’s MY antagonizing piece of shit you know?”_ Zoro’s chest almost swells with happiness at this possessive side of Sanji. The insults don’t really mean anything between them anymore. 

“Then you don’t have anything to worry about.” Luffy pronounces, and this is the final word on the subject. Luffy is like that, once he decides something, everyone else around him is forced to accommodate it. “So are you going to make up for the breakfast I missed this morning?” 

The conversation continues for a little while longer but Zoro tunes the whole thing out. He allows himself to be happy again. He’s ok and Sanji is ok. Maybe now that Luffy knows, and now that Sanji is becoming an increasingly important figure in Zoro’s life, Sanji could become a functioning part of the crew. It would make it so much easier to not have to keep any secrets any more (there are still a lot of secrets Zoro is keeping). 

He hates being dishonest with the cook, because that’s what not telling the truth is after all. He’s not living a lie per se, but as he’s not being completely honest with Sanji, Zoro isn’t completely happy. It’s definitely something to think about. It’ll have to be baby steps first, he’ll have to gain the blonde’s trust back before he can even think about showing Sanji the more active side of his job (or well, his second job). But they’ll get there soon, and Zoro can’t think of anything he’d like more. 

Zoro notices belatedly that Luffy and Sanji’s phone call has ended, and he’s only alerted to the fact when Luffy sprawls across him complaining of boredom. Zoro stays at Luffy’s place to entertain for a little while, allowing himself to relax for the first time that day. He’s got the rest of his life to make mistakes and fuck shit up, for now all Zoro wants to do is hold on to the small peace of mind the afternoon has given him. 

He leaves Luffy’s early in the evening. Sanji still hasn’t called him but he’s not terribly concerned, he knows he’ll be hearing from the cook eventually. The drive back to his apartment is calming, and Zoro spends the entire time thinking of exactly how he’s going to earn back Sanji’s trust and make sure that something like this never happens again. 

As he makes the last turn on his motorcycle his entire worldview shifts. The ground beneath him is suddenly spinning and his stomach drops with the sudden feeling of falling. He is spinning quickly, too quickly to stop himself safely, and Zoro tries to avoid tensing his muscles and spins into the roll he’s stuck in. It does not go well as he forgets to account for the 600 pounds of metal currently spinning alongside him. He hears a loud crash, a loud ringing noise and then suddenly there is a white-hot pain surrounding his head. His elbows drag across the pavement first, and he has the presence of mind to tuck his chin down but not to do much else. He’s fallen, and he’s hurt (oh god, everything hurts). 

As he attempts to regain the breath that had been knocked out of him by the crash he hears two gunshots rings out and the sound of squealing tires as a car drives quickly past him, the bastards. He stumbles backwards as something very hard, and very hot hits him in the stomach. It takes him a moment reset his brain again; to realize exactly what happened, and why he’s no longer sitting atop his bike. He’s spun out more than 100 feet and his left foot is trapped under a hunk of probably useless metal. He can’t stay there, he has to move. If not only to reassure himself that he will survive, he doesn’t know if somebody else might show up at such an inopportune moment (this is the definition of an inopportune moment). He’s been on the other side of this kind of accident too many times to not play it safe. 

He looks around himself slowly, but something isn’t right. The world around him is spinning, but only counterclockwise throwing off his depth perception, and goddamn it, there’s something in his eye that he can’t fix. 

He has to move; he has to get out of there. He focuses all of his willpower on moving his feet slowly towards his apartment. Zoro thanks his lucky stars (if stars can be lucky for someone like him) that he lives on the ground floor. It’s all he can do to unlock his front door before he falls down on the floor of his living room. 

He is breathing, but something is very, very wrong. He needs help. He needs to call the crew. He needs… 

The final thoughts don’t make it through his head as his eyes close and he drifts off into unconsciousness. 

The last thing Zoro remembers is hearing the phone in his pocket ring, but he’s too far gone to do anything about it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't my favorite chapter that i've written, but i think it was really important to explore what happens when Zoro and Sanji fight, since there will be a lot of that in the future. also ace!Luffy and emotionally raw!Sanji are both very important to me. 
> 
> classes just started up again for me so i'm sorry if i'm not updating as much as i have been, i promise to keep this up though, for once i'd actually like to stick with something that i've created. 
> 
> Also, i'm sorry about another cliffhanger. (i'm actually not that sorry at all)
> 
> Questions? Concerns? Critiques? Complements? Kudos? as always, i'd love to hear from you. -x


	13. On Pain and Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is one of my favorite chapters that i've written. i hope you enjoy it! sorry about the late(ish) update, classes are kicking my ass this semester. i have three (3!!!) exams next week, so the next chapter might not be up for a while (BUT WILL GO UP I PROMISE). As always, tell me how you're feeling in the box below -x

Sanji has been calling Zoro for the past hour and a half. 

The asshole asked him to call, and that’s exactly what he’s doing. He’s still mad, but he’s not really mad at Zoro anymore. It was an unfortunate morning sure, and frankly he’s still really overwhelmed by the whole thing. If he’s being honest with himself, Sanji is feeling sorry for himself; he feels sorry for overreacting and he is just a little bit jealous that he is going to have to share certain parts of Zoro with other people. _But isn’t that’s what normal relationships are all about? You fight, you make up, and you learn to not be an overemotional, overprotective asshole, right?_

But maybe he would have a bit of an easier time moving on if a certain _somebody_ would just answer the goddamn phone. It’s not like Zoro to ignore a phone call. Zoro practically sleeps with his phone in his hand because it’s the only way it will wake him up. So either Zoro doesn’t really want to talk with him, _please don’t let that be true_ , or there’s something else going on here. 

Maybe Zoro is planning something. Maybe he’s just trying to figure out the best way to talk more about this. Sanji thinks that the best course of action is just to head over to Zoro’s apartment and try to pick up the pieces he dropped that morning. He wants this to work out and it’s going take a really good reason for him to actually drop Zoro, though it does give Sanji a reason to beat the shit out of the marimo. He makes a mental note to schedule a spar soon. 

Sanji changes clothes into something that is a little more casual than his work outfit and thankfully doesn’t smell like he stood cooking in front of a gas stove all day. He also, maybe, changes into something that he looks incredibly good in, if only to remind his asshole boyfriend exactly how good he’s got it. He grabs his keys and tries to call Zoro one more time before he leaves. Zoro’s voicemail picks up and Sanji locks his front door. 

“Hey asshole it’s me. Pick up your goddamn phone! I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for a while but I’m too impatient so I’m coming over to say a few things to your ugly face. See you soon.”

It’s a very short drive over to Zoro’s, which might have been helped by Sanji’s violation of several traffic laws. As he pulls up in front of Zoro’s apartment, Sanji gets the very distinct feeling that something is wrong. To start with, Zoro’s bike is not in front of his door, but there are lights on inside of the apartment. As he gets out of his car and walks up to the entrance he notices that the front door is open, which only increases Sanji’s nervousness to ‘something is very, very wrong’ levels. 

As he pushes the front door opens the first thing he notices is the blood. There is so much of it, on the walls, on the door and most noticeably on the person lying on the ground. 

There is a person covered in blood on the floor of Zoro’s apartment. There is a person with green hair lying on the ground possibly bleeding to death. 

“Oh fuck, Zoro no! No no no no. What happened?” Sanji yells out and immediately drops to his knees next to Zoro. He’s gently shaking Zoro while trying to find a pulse and make sure Zoro is breathing. He is, _thank god_. 

“Zoro. Zoro, wake up. Please wake up. I’m calling for an ambulance. Please say something to me.”

At this point Zoro miraculously opens his eyes, or one of his eyes as the left eye is currently covered by a huge gash, and stares directly at Sanji. 

“San-ji. You’re here. Nothing… happened.” Zoro stumbles out.

“What? No! Zoro you look like you’re bleeding to death. Hold on, let me call an ambulance!”

Zoro grasps Sanji’s wrist, though the grip is all wrong and far too weak to actually belong to Zoro. The entire situation is a dream. Sanji tries to blink his eyes and pinches himself; _this has got to be a dream._

“No… ambulance. I need… Chopper. Call Luffy.” Zoro’s voice is barely above a whisper, but it is insistent.

“No. You are hurt this is not an opportunity to argue with me!” Sanji yells, frustrated as he tries several time to pull his phone out of his pocket. He has to strain his ears to hear the next words that come out of Zoro’s mouth. 

“No. Luffy. Chopper,” is all that Zoro manages to say. 

“Ok, Ok. I’m calling everybody now. Please hold on Zoro!” Sanji tries to get a grip, he has to focus and calm down so that he can deal with whatever the hell is going on. 

Sanji makes the phone call holding tightly to Zoro’s hand. _Aren’t I supposed to put pressure on the bleeding?_ The only problem is that Sanji can’t find where the blood is coming from, there’s too much of it. He’s getting very worried now that Zoro has closed his eyes again. This is all wrong. He can’t even get the words out to Luffy on the phone, but Sanji supposes he manages somehow because soon, although he loses track of time and doesn’t know how soon, hands are prying him free of Zoro and trying to talk to him, trying to understand what happened, trying to make sense of why Zoro is covered in blood. 

Sanji doesn’t have answers, and even if he did he doesn’t have any words to explain anything. He’s in shock. He doesn’t understand what’s wrong with Zoro, and he sure as hell doesn’t understand why people are taking him away from Zoro. 

“Zoro! Zoro! Listen to me you asshole. You can’t die on me, ok? Because I’m not finished yelling at you. I’m not done making fun of your ugly face, and you still owe me another apology ok? Please be okay Zoro” Sanji sobs, trying to keep Zoro between his arms. It’s the only thing he can do. 

There are hands on his shoulders; there is a mouth at his ear. Someone is saying something; there is a voice whispering that everything is going to be ok. But it doesn’t feel like it’s going to be ok. Everything is wrong right now, too wrong, and Sanji can’t cope. A small part of his brain knows that he should be strong; that way he can try to make sense of the situation and do everything he can to help Zoro. But there is a much louder portion of Sanji’s brain screaming in shock, and the only thing he can do is fade into unconsciousness where the world is black and his hands aren’t dripping with blood.

****

Consciousness slams into Sanji suddenly and painfully. He sits up on Zoro’s couch, _when did I lie down? When did I get to Zoro’s house? Where is…?_

Zoro. Something happened to Zoro. 

Where is Zoro? He jumps off the couch before he realizes that Luffy and Nami are standing beside him gripping his shoulders. _When did they get there?  
_  
“Sanji, sit down please, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Nami calmly whispers. _Why is she whispering?_

“Nami. What’s going on?” Sanji blinks slowly, still not able to process what’s going on around him. Usopp and Robin are sitting at the dining table having a quiet discussion. Luffy is wearing this weird straw hat that droops below his eyes, matching the deep scowl playing on his lips. 

“Sanji, what happened to Zoro?” Luffy demands. 

“Zoro. I don’t know, something… bad happened. Where is he?” Sanji tries to get off the couch to look for Zoro but Nami and Luffy only push him back down. 

“Sanji sweetie, you fainted. Zoro had an accident. You called Luffy and told him that something bad had happened. When we got here you were wrapped around him and when we tried to peel you away you passed out. Please try to remember, we need to know what happened.” Nami sits down beside him and starts rubbing small circles on Sanji’s back. 

Sanji takes a deep breath in an attempt to center himself. He’s trying to remember how he got to Zoro’s apartment in the first place. 

“I-I don’t remember much. Uh, I called Zoro like he asked me to. We fought this morning,” Sanji offers in an attempted explanation. “I called him like 9 times and he wasn’t answering his phone. I got fed up with it and decided to see if I could find him over here.” 

Suddenly Sanji remembers exactly what Zoro looked like when we walked in through the front door. He jumps off the couch and barely makes it into the kitchen before he empties the contents of his stomach into the trashcan. It’s not exactly something he wanted to recall. 

He leans back against the counter, and Nami, suddenly standing beside him, passes over a cold glass of water. He sips at the drink, trying to form words that match the pictures in his head. 

“I knew something was off when I walked in the door, it was open. And he was… he was just lying there covered in blood. I checked to make sure he was breathing.” Sanji runs his hands over his face and shaking, he checks his pocket for cigarettes. “That’s all I remember. I guess you guys showed up? Nami, what’s going on? Is Zoro okay? Where is he?” 

“Sanji, Sanji it’s ok. Everything is going to be fine,” Nami says soothingly. “You’re right, there was an accident. Law and Chopper are fixing up Zoro now but he’s going to be all right. Take deep breathes.” Sanji is smoking in the kitchen, something that normally Zoro would kick his ass for which only makes the sinking feeling in Sanji’s stomach worse. He doesn’t think things are going to be all right. 

Suddenly Franky bursts through the front door drawing the attention of everyone in the apartment. 

“I found Zoro’s bike, it’s super messed up. It’ll still work but it is going to need some major work. It looks like a car hit him. There’s also some tire marks outside that makes it look like whoever hit him also took off in a hurry. Frankly, from looking at it, I’m pretty amazed that he made it back into the apartment.” 

Franky’s information makes Sanji’s chest tighten and his heart beats madly. _Someone hit Zoro? Who would do that?_

Sanji can’t handle what is happening. He’s almost positive he’s not dreaming, but to be sure he looks at his hand and counts all 5 fingers; he’s awake then. If someone hit Zoro, was it on purpose or was it a random hit-and-run? If it wasn’t an accident, who would ever want to hurt Zoro? Sanji moves back to his spot on the couch trying to slow his heart beat and even out his breaths. He and Zoro were fine yesterday. He was making breakfast this morning! Zoro might be hurt forever and think that Sanji would never forgive him. _How is this day spinning so wildly out of control?_

He doesn’t have any answers, and the looks on everyone else’s faces tell Sanji that no one has any answers either. 

Back on the couch Sanji alternates counting his fingers and counting his breaths; he is putting all of his energy into making sure he doesn’t go into a full blown panic attack, but the blood between his fingertips isn’t helping. 

He walks into the kitchen again and begins scrubbing his hands maniacally; he’s got to get the blood off his hands. He will do anything to get the blood off his hands. A hand on his back makes him jump in surprise, but a soft and lovely smile from Robin calms him back down. Not saying anything, Robin turns off the tap, grabs a towel from a drawer, and begins drying Sanji’s hands. She’s whispering and murmuring something but Sanji can’t focus enough to makes sense of the words. He should be paying more attention to Robin, he loves Robin, but he’s more devoted to the man currently lying _god-knows-where after god-knows-what happened to him._

Robin leads Sanji to sit at the kitchen table, and returns later with toast and a mug of tea. Sanji manages to thank Robin for her kindness and turns his attention to the food in front of him. He knows he should eat, in fact he’s very hungry, but his stomach feels too volatile so he merely nibbles on the toast and uses the tea mug to keep his hands occupied. 

Everyone is sitting at the table now, talking about him, talking around him. Sanji doesn’t care he’s not really thinking about anything solid. He’s in the process of staring a hole in the empty tea mug in front of him. He doesn’t remember drinking the tea. 

“Do you think it was Mihawk?” Usopp asks rather loudly at the table.

Sanji realizes that several pairs of eyes are trained on him, but he’s not sure why. He hears Luffy respond but the words bounce around nonsensically in his skull. 

“Damn Mihawk! If it was him I’m going to punch him in the face so hard his teeth won’t catch up to his face hitting the ground. I hate him!”

“Luffy, it’s ok calm down please. We don’t know for sure if it was him. We need to find out if Zoro knows anything first before we go off and start plotting revenge.” Nami stands as the voice of reason at the table. 

Zoro. Sanji desperately wants to see Zoro, to make sure he’s actually still alive. He wants to curl up next to the moss head and pretend like today was just a bad dream. In fact he’d rather be anywhere than seated at the table talking about Zoro. 

“Nami, beautiful, where is Zoro? Can I see him yet?”

“Yes, you can go see him now,” a cool, low voice drawls from behind Sanji. “Chopper and I just finished working on him.”

“Law! You’re sure, he’s fine?” Luffy jumps up excitedly from the table. 

“Well I wouldn’t call it ‘fine’ exactly. He’s got severe road rash all over, a very deep facial laceration, and a scratched cornea. His left leg is in bad shape with a significant knee sprain or a possible ligament tear. There are some really bad cuts that we will have to monitor for infection. He also has two abdominal gunshot wounds, but sure, I guess technically he’s fine.” Law sits down at the table rubbing his eyes. The dim overhead lights only help to make his vitiligo and the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced. 

“This though, this was very interesting,” Law says tiredly as he pulls a bag out of his pocket. “Here are the two bullets we pulled out of him. They’re silver with his name engraved on the side. Note the distinct floral pattern on the edge as well. That’s a signature if I’ve ever seen one.”

“His name is engraved on them?!” Robin exclaims. “How morbid. They say a named bullet will always find its target.” 

“And find him they did. It took a lot of work to pull these suckers out of Zoro.”

Sanji is absolutely shocked. This wasn’t an accident. Someone deliberately tried to kill Zoro, and from the way Law looks, they very nearly succeeded. He moves quickly to the bedroom Law just walked out of. Sanji doesn’t want to think or talk about this anymore. He goes to find the marimo. 

As he walks into the dark bedroom, Sanji nearly walks into Chopper who is busy adjusting pillows and weird tubing over the bed. The sheets on the bed are different from this morning. _That’s probably not a good sign right? But maybe it’s just one less thing to worry about._

“Oh, hi Sanji. He’s fine for now. But I’ve got him hooked up to an IV to try to replace the fluids and blood he lost. He’s also on a lot of medication for now so he’s not going to wake anytime soon.” Seeing the worried look on Sanji’s face Chopper continues, “But he is going to wake up, probably in the morning. I know it looks really bad right now Sanji, but it’s not as bad as it could be. Zoro’s strong. You can lie next to him. You don’t look very well, maybe you should get some sleep too.”

Sanji nods and softly climbs into bed next to Zoro’s sleeping form. Zoro is frightfully pale, and Sanji can hear the shallow breaths being pulled with extreme effort from Zoro’s chest. No, Zoro isn’t fine at all. 

Sanji isn’t going to cry. He’s cried enough this past month, and he doesn’t want the shock to get to him. He’s going to be strong for Zoro, he’s going to help fight for Zoro. Sanji resolves to do whatever it takes to prevent this from happening again, he’s going to keep Zoro safe if it’s the last thing he does.

Resting his head on a pillow, Sanji curls up next to the other man. He rests his hand lightly on top of Zoro’s and, for the second time that night, unconsciousness to rolls over him.

****

Sanji wakes up suddenly the next morning when he hears a grunt of pain coming from next to him. 

“Shhh, Zoro wait. Don’t sit up you might hurt something.” For the first time since the accident Sanji actually gets a good look at Zoro. _He looks like something chewed him up and spit him out._

There is a deep bruise sprouting from under the bandage covering the left side of Zoro’s face, and the majority of Zoro’s arms are covered in a red painful rash. Zoro’s entire chest is wrapped with padding and bandages and his left leg is propped up on pillows with his knee bound up under a mass of bandaged. He looks like shit. 

Zoro tries to say something to Sanji but the words come out jumbled and slow. Sanji gently reaches over Zoro to grab a glass of water thoughtfully left on the bedside table.

“Here, drink this,” Sanji slowly guides the glass to Zoro’s lips. “Slowly, marimo, you survived getting shot now try not to choke.” 

A low rumble in Zoro’s chest starts off as a laugh but quickly changes to a gasp of pain as the movement of Zoro’s chest exacerbates his wounds. Sanji puts the glass back on the table and returns to Zoro’s side. 

Sanji lays back down, knees tucked near Zoro’s hip, his head resting on Zoro’s shoulder, one of the only unscathed parts he can see. 

“You’re not allowed to do this to me ever again you stupid, frustrating marimo,” He whispers. 

“I’ve been thinking for a while now…” A faint growl crosses Zoro’s lips. 

“Well that’s dangerous.” Sanji doesn’t stir. 

“What does that even mean?”

“What does what mean?”

“Marimo.”

Sanji sits up, surprised. 

“Wait, you don’t know what it means?” Sanji sits up after slowly feeling the slow shake of Zoro’s head. “It’s moss. It’s literally a moss ball. They live in ponds; some people have them in aquariums. You can buy them at pet stores. You’ve seriously never seen them?” Sanji can’t help but laugh. 

A smirk crosses Zoro’s face. “And here I thought you were actually smart enough to come up with an interesting insult. Get some new material.” He tries to laugh but again the wounds on his chest turn the laugh into a groan. 

Sanji rests his head back on Zoro’s shoulder. He’s home and he’s comfortable. 

“I’m sorry, by the way.” Zoro would shrug if he could move his shoulder without pain. 

“It’s not your fault someone attacked you,” Sanji mumbles in reply. 

“No, not for that. For yesterday morning.”

“It feels like it was a year ago,” Sanji murmurs into Zoro’s neck with a soft kiss. “There’s nothing to forgive, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Are you feeling better?” Zoro asks softly.

“Of course I’m not feeling better, you’re lying broken in bed! Why are you even asking me that? You’re the one that I should be worrying over.” Sanji’s voice catches as his throat tightens emotionally. 

“Shut up asshole. I don’t need someone mothering me. No, are you feeling better about… you know? You’ve been off all month.” Zoro’s voice is gruff and sounds exhausted. 

“Go to sleep. I’m fine. We’re fine.” Sanji nestles back down, forehead on Zoro’s shoulder, starved for closeness.

Maybe everyone was right; maybe things really are going to be ok. In any event Sanji doesn’t want to burst the lovely bubble he and Zoro exist in lying spooned together in bed. They sit and talk as the light outside the windows grows brighter. Sanji can’t hear anything from outside; he assumes that the others left sometime during the night. Zoro tells Sanji about growing up with his sister and Sanji shares some French stories he learned as a kid. 

In Zoro’s bedroom, they exist outside of time. Occasionally Zoro will fall asleep and Sanji will follow, or in those quiet moments Sanji steps outside for a cigarette or checks on the soup simmering on the stove. 

Sanji keeps All Blue closed. He stays at Zoro’s for the rest of the week, rarely moving off the bed. They read, they watch TV, they joke, they enjoy the other’s silence. It would almost be like a honeymoon minus the beach and if they ignored Zoro’s terrible injuries. They can’t do much together but just being together is enough for Sanji. 

But even though Zoro’s wounds and rash are healing, Sanji worries that the hurt might be deeper than the surface. As the week moves on, Zoro becomes more and more quiet. He still smiles and tries to laugh the same, but every now and then the smile doesn’t reach his amber colored eyes. _Is it me, or is it him?_

Sanji is about to bring it up, he’s about to ask what happened, and why Zoro is withdrawing so much. Why he flinches when Sanji wraps his arms around him, and why he pretends that Sanji doesn’t notice it. It will be the first serious thing they’ve talked about all week, and the first time Zoro will have talked about the accident. He doesn’t want to do it, but Sanji recognizes the signs of extreme stress and the beginning stages of depression. 

It’s Friday night when he’s about to open his mouth, to finally break the silence, when someone knocks on the door. Zoro sighs, clearly frustrated at not being able to walk and Sanji crawls out of bed to answer the door. 

As he sleepily opens the front door, the entire crew walks through the entry way and files into the living room. Nami and Robin pull Sanji aside. 

“Hi Sanji, how’s he doing?” Nami says as she places a light hand on Sanji’s forearm. 

Sanji rubs the back of his head in a distracted manner. 

“Ok, I think. He’s hurt, in more ways than one, and the recovery will probably take a while all things considered. I can’t thank you guys enough for coming to the rescue like you did.”

“We’re family Sanji, it’s what we do,” Robin says soothingly. “Sanji, I hate to do this, but can you bring Zoro into the living room? We all need to talk.”

Sanji, of course, agrees. As he heads into the bedroom to announce their guests to Zoro, he wonders just exactly what they need to talk about that involves 9 people in his living room on a Friday night. 

Zoro sits up in bed, and Sanji hoists his shoulder under Zoro’s arm carefully avoiding the patches of bandages where bullets entered Zoro’s body. Sanji supports Zoro’s weight and together they slowly limp to join the crew.


	14. Big Reveals and Small Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bless everyone for your support and patience. the good news: i am free from the hell of the past three exam weeks!!! the bad news: anatomy is still kicking my ass and most of my free time goes to studying for that. but I'm still writing!! Slowly but surely i'm gonna get this story done. so, thanks for waiting on me :) -x

“Absolutely not.” Zoro’s voice rings through the living room. 

“There is no way in hell Sanji is pulling a job with us.” 

Sanji doesn’t understand Zoro’s visceral reaction. In fact, he doesn’t really understand anything anyone has told him, and he hates that this is becoming a common theme in his life. Sanji and Zoro were enjoying yet another peaceful evening in, and they were just about to talk when Luffy and everybody else interrupted. Now they’re telling him they’re all members of a gang? 

What the hell? How has he been dating someone for four months, met all of said boyfriends friends, and generally just hung out with them all and not realized that they’re a gang? Gang people do gang things, right? He would have noticed if this was something serious. 

But apparently he’s noticing now, the gangs all here… in Zoro’s apartment. And Sanji is definitely caught up in the middle of something.

“Zoro we need help. You’re out of commission for now, and it’s not like we can say no to something like this.” Nami logically and coolly explains. 

“No. I won’t have it. This is dangerous, and Sanji doesn’t know anything about the business.”

Sanji is about to protest. It’s not like he wants to say no to any of his friends, and frankly he doesn’t know enough to not say no, but he’s quickly silenced by a pointed stare from Zoro. 

“Sanji’s been part of the crew for a while now. He should work with us. He can make his own decisions. How about it Sanji?” Luffy hasn’t said anything else for the whole night, but he very clearly is interested in Sanji working with them. 

“Luffy! No. It’s too dangerous, and I’m not going to be responsible for bringing someone normal like Sanji in!” Zoro looks absolutely frustrated and angry, his eyebrows drawn in and shoulders hunched down. Sanji knows that if he were physically able, Zoro would be right in front of Luffy’s face. 

“Sanji doesn’t know anything, and I was planning on keeping him out of it for as long as possible. But thanks to you assholes, he’s a part of it now.”

“He was a part of this when you both got together, Zoro. Don’t go spreading the blame on other people here. You knew this was going to blow up.” Nami practically spits from her spot on the couch. 

Desperate to stop the argument, Sanji tries to play the mediator. 

“Zoro, as usual, you’re being an idiot! Don’t get so upset, you’re still injured. And Nami, while I appreciate your point of view, I need you to calm down as well. None of this is helping anything.”

His words hang emptily in the room and no one moves, save for Usopp’s nervous fidgeting. 

“Tch. Fine, I’ll calm the fuck down once everybody leaves.” Zoro rolls his eyes, not making eye contact with Sanji. 

Nami scowls but doesn’t say anything. Sanji heads to the kitchen to grab drinks for everybody, and regrets deeply having left for even such a short part of time because as he walks back into the living room Nami and Zoro are at each other’s throats again. 

“No, Zoro we need to talk about this. We do what we do to help other people. You’re not the type of person to pass up on this, so please explain. What the hell is your problem?” Nami screeches, standing square in front of Zoro. 

“You witch! You are a meddling, infuriating witch! I’ve had it. I’m saying no!” Zoro growls back. 

“Guys, guys, back off.” Sanji tries to get in between the two of them, but the argument is too far gone, and apparently both parties have things they needs to get off their chests. 

“Fine, insult me, I don’t care. But you need to get your head out of your ass and realize that this isn’t just about you. You no longer have a choice in the matter, Sanji is going to help us.” 

“Like hell this isn’t just about me. It’s fucking dangerous Nami, would you stand by while Nojiko or Vivi get involved in a case like this? I know exactly who you will be up against, and I’m telling you that it is too dangerous,” Zoro explodes in response. “Send the clients to Jinbe with our regards.” 

“You’re impossible! Vivi and Nojiko know how to fight, and they’ll fight for something they believe in, just like how I know Sanji will.” Nami yells back, her voice getting higher and higher in pitch. “You’re forcing our hand. You don’t get to make this decision. Why are you being such a hardass?”

“BECAUSE I CAN’T LOSE HIM TOO!” Zoro roars back, followed shortly by a gasp from Nami. Zoro avoids her gaze, seemingly regretting his outburst. 

“I see. Fine, we’re leaving then.” Nami stomps out of the living room. Sanji hears the door open, then slam viciously as Nami makes her exit. Sanji flinches as the windows in the living room shudder with the impact. 

Just like that, the impromptu meeting is over and the rest of the crew files out of the living room. Sanji heads to the front to wish them all goodnight when Robin pulls him aside. 

“I know Zoro is angry, and this is a bad situation all around, but talk to him. Calm him down, and then call me tomorrow if you want to learn a little bit more.” She tucks her long hair behind her ear and disappears into the night. 

Sanji heads back to the living room with a thousand thoughts bouncing around in his head. First he learns that his boyfriend is in a gang, and then Zoro gets freakishly protective over him. _What the fuck is going on?_

Sanji returns to the living room to find Zoro exactly where he was sitting when Sanji left. He leans up against the wall next to the couch and studies Zoro for a moment. 

“So are you going to explain what that was all about?” Sanji asks, as he places an unlit cigarette between his lips. 

“I wasn’t exactly planning on it, no.” Zoro sighs quietly, rubbing his temples. 

“You’re going to have to talk eventually. So either you explain now, or you don’t get breakfast in the morning.” Sanji moves to sit down on the couch, then turns sideways and gently places his long legs across Zoro’s lap. 

“Bastard,” Zoro spits back.

“Asshole.”

“Jerk.”

“Idiot.”

Zoro sighs, Sanji will definitely be the one to get the last word in. 

“It is dangerous, I wasn’t kidding about that.”

“I can look after myself thank you very much. I’m not the one with a bum leg and two holes in my chest.” Sanji rolls the cigarette, still unlit, between his lips. 

“Thanks for making my point. That’s exactly why I didn’t want you involved in this shit. You went through enough as a kid, there’s no reason to pull you back into this mess,” Zoro says as he methodically pulls at Sanji’s shoelaces, trying to get the shoes out of the way. 

Sanji doesn’t say anything; his plan is to just let Zoro talk it out. Maybe if he talks it out it’ll clear the air on this entire situation and explain why he’s been acting so weird over the past week. 

“It’s just, I don’t like pulling other people into my shit. I can deal with whatever comes up.” Zoro sighs deeply. “Look, I lost somebody very dear to me a long time ago because of this business, and I’ll be damned if I let it happen again.”

“I’m not planning on going anywhere, idiot.” Sanji relaxes down into the couch, most of the fight gone out of him. 

“You never plan this kind of shit.”

“Well, it still doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do, and I’m still not over this whole ‘let’s not tell Sanji we’re a gang’ business. We have a lot more to discuss.”

“That’s fine. You can be mad at me, you probably should be mad at me. I just… I can’t lose you over something like this and I won’t let my problems become yours.” Zoro mumbles into the hand resting on his chin. “But uh, you think we could move this discussion to the bedroom?”

“Everything is pillow talk with you, marimo.” Sanji smirks, but he rises off the couch and helps escort Zoro back to the bedroom. 

****

“We’re not really a gang per se.” Robin explains as she sips her coffee.

Sanji ended up not getting the whole story out of Zoro, and he’s still very confused about the entire situation. He took Robin up on her offer of explanation simply because he doesn’t know what else to do. If he doesn’t know the whole story, he can’t help his friends, and he can’t be of any use to Zoro. If he can’t be of any use to Zoro, then there’s little purpose in Sanji staying anyway. He can’t bear the thought of being dead weight, but he also can’t stand to think that he’s responsible for causing a rift between his best friends. 

“Robin, I don’t really care what you want to call yourselves, I just need a clear answer about what is actually going on.” Sanji sets his own cup of coffee down and leans forward with elbows on the table. 

“In order to fully explain, I have to start at the beginning. We’re often referred to as a gang because of the people that we work with, but we’re most accurately a crew; we work together against organized crime rather than perpetuating it. You see, all of us come from a background where the people who style themselves as crime lords in this world dramatically changed our lives. Whether they call themselves a Family, Yakuza, or a simple Mob Ring, there is a serious issue with organized crime in the area, and the crew has bonded together in an attempt to stop the vicious circle of gang abuse.” Robin pauses to sip her coffee again. 

“In a way, we all owe our lives to Luffy. His story isn’t terribly complicated, but he’s helped all of us out in ways that we can never repay. My story, for example: I was a member of a highly educated Romani family. Racial tensions came to a head and my entire family was killed. At 8 years old I was the only survivor, but a survivor with a secret that could bring a powerful corporation in this city to its knees,” she smiles knowingly. “I was hunted, and I lived for 20 years on the run, essentially homeless while working odd jobs. Luffy helped me avoid being kidnapped, gave me a job, helped me build a life. It’s only natural that I repay him for the kindness he’s shown me by helping other people as well.” Little emotion crosses her face, or seeps into the story. Either Robin is much more bothered by her past than she lets on, or she has grown so used to her life that she can only see it as a matter of fact.

“Robin, I—I’m so sorry. That must have been terrible. I had no idea,” Sanji gasps in sympathy. 

“It’s nothing worse that what you’ve been through in your own life, I’m sure. Krieg was a nasty bastard and he got what he deserved in the end,” Robin chuckles morbidly. 

“How did you know about Krieg?” Sanji asks warily. “I’ve only told two people in my life.”

“I’ve made it my business to know things about people.” 

There is an awkward silence between the two of them before Sanji can unscramble his brain enough to formulate the next part of the conversation. 

“So what do you mean, you stop perpetuating crime? Is this some rob from the rich and give to the needy, Robin Hood enterprise?” Sanji slowly sips his coffee trying to understand exactly at what level everyone is involved in.

“Hmm, how shall I put this, we provide… Leverage, to be used to help unfortunate people out of the clutches of those who mean them harm. And occasionally we cause a little bit of harm ourselves, purely in the interest of self-preservation of course.”

“Ok, I’m sorry. I’m still completely lost. What the hell kind of Gotham-esque plot line did I walk into?” Sanji places his head in his hands and sighs. Robin gets up from the table and clears their coffee cups, gently placing them in the sink amidst Sanji’s mutterings that she shouldn’t be doing any kind of work. Instead of paying Sanji any attention, she briefly leaves the kitchen they are meeting in and returns with a file folder. 

“Gotham isn’t too bad of an example of what the world is like,’ Robin chuckles morbidly. “Maybe it will make more sense if I explain the job we need your help with.” She opens the folder and spreads several photographs, lists, and maps out on the table. 

“To get an idea of just how convoluted the entire operation is, you need a little bit of background on the key players.” Robin points to a picture of a tall blonde man, wearing an oversized pink coat. An ostentatious pair of glasses covers his eyes, but what is most noticeable is the devilish grin he sports. His smile, or lack of one, gives him the appearance of ruthlessness and pure unadulterated evil. “I assume you’re familiar with the DonQuixote Family?” Robin asks innocently. 

Sanji can only nod, peering at the photographs placed before him. 

“This is their leader, known only as Doflamingo. He may not be the most powerful man in the country, but he is without a doubt one of the most dangerous. He has his hands in pretty much everything illegal in the city. Hundreds of people owe their allegiance to him, but he is loyal only to one man. Although loyalty is perhaps too strong a word, he only moves where the money is.” Robin shifts several papers around, handing Sanji two other pictures of the aforementioned Doflamingo. 

“I’ve heard of him before. What exactly makes him so dangerous?”

“If you ever are unfortunate enough to meet him, you will understand soon enough. The confusing part is that there are 6 other crime bosses within this particular region each of various power levels, their own connections, and with their own loyalties. It’s almost as if there are two separate governments running the country: one who runs the day-to-day business, and the other group of anarchists who operate the more shady side of business.”

“Ok, so like a hierarchy of sorts? Who’s at the top?” Sanji runs his hands through his hair, frustrated, and still not understanding. 

“Not as much of a hierarchy as it is a form of anarchy with everyone racing to be the most powerful. No one knows who is at the top, but we think there has to be someone pulling strings. No one has seen or met with the King in recent times, and if they have they’re not sharing anything. We’re not even sure if he’s still alive. The entire… pseudo-hierarchy as you said, has been crumbling for the past 15 years because of continuous and varying claims for complete power. This one crack in the foundation allows men like Doflamingo to hold a considerable amount of power even though he’s certainly not the richest or the most popular. AND almost none of the groups work together; they simply… tolerate each other and allow business transactions to take place. They are united only in the questionable legality surrounding their various enterprises. The government and police do what they can, but they’re not the ones who hold the power.”

“How is this so intricate and why don’t more people know about this? I get that it’s political and there are various levels of power, but what does that have to do with Luffy and everyone else?” Sanji sighs. In response Robin hands him another picture, this time of an extraordinarily beautiful young girl. 

“This is Keimi. A few weeks ago she was approached by one of Doflamingo’s subordinates, we don’t know which one yet. They attempted to kidnap her, but thanks to another friend she managed to escape. Since then, she has been stalked, harassed, and two days ago, she received the threat of blackmail if she doesn’t agree to work for one of the Family’s more unsavory businesses.”

“That’s terrible! Who would do that? Who could possibly want to hurt a beautiful angel like her?” Sanji gasps in shock. 

“I quite agree. This is where Luffy and the rest of the crew come in. We have the ability to get rid of Keimi’s troubles. The problem is that we don’t have enough time to deal with the situation if Zoro cannot help us.” Robin lays out several more pictures on the table.

Sanji lightly touches the rest of the pictures in front of him. There are multiple shots of Keimi, a layout of her house, and one picture shows a blurred man sitting in a car in front of what must be Keimi’s house. The poor girl is being followed and harassed. The sad part is that Sanji knows his visceral reaction to this case is personal. His own past experiences tell him that some people live just to hurt others. He just never thought that he’d get involved with _that_ crowd ever again. He’s shocked, and worried for this girl he’s never met. 

“Why doesn’t she go to the police? That’s what normal people do, right?” Sanji whispers, realizing too late that he’d spoken aloud. _I shouldn’t be talking; I’ve never gone to the police for anything._

“Yes, I suppose that’s what normal people would do, but soon you’ll learn that nothing about our lives is normal. For one thing, Keimi cannot file a restraining order unless there is proof that someone means to follow up on the threats or unless she is physically harmed. Furthermore, Keimi believes that Doflamingo intends on exposing some potentially illegal past actions of hers, not exactly something the police would be willing to help out with.”

“Ok, I suppose that makes sense. You know, in the world where there are crime hierarchies and this evil fucker Doflamingo exists.” Sanji shrugs, and then has to apologize for his rough language. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair and sighs, taking out a cigarette to roll between his lips. “So how exactly do you help with something like this?”

“Well, there’s no official plan of action yet,” Robin calmly explains, taking a sip of her coffee. “Luffy has agreed to help Keimi, the plan usually follows after we gather enough information and surveillance. That’s Usopp and Franky’s role. As a paralegal, Zoro’s knowledge of the law helps up firmly understand what we can and cannot legally do to help. He’s managed to do most of the background research on this case, but we need a body on the ground. What we believe needs to happen is that someone needs to get close to this man.” She taps a photograph of a man in obnoxious star shaped sunglasses sporting an untrimmed goatee. 

“This is a man known only as Disco. He runs a business for Doflamingo where we are sure this man works.” Here, Robin taps the photograph of the man sitting outside Keimi’s house Sanji had picked up earlier. “We need to get close to him, gather up some dirt on him, and potentially the family, and figure out exactly what they are holding over Keimi’s head, thereby stopping the blackmail and the harassment. These kind of jobs are always difficult because they involve infiltration and going in blind. It’s much easier to steal something,” Robin laughs. 

Sanji takes in a big breath, still trying to process all of the information Robin has given him. He had no idea that organized crime was so, well, organized. _And how the fuck did I not realize I’ve been sitting in this mess the whole time? How can I let myself get involved in this kind of thing again? How can I let someone else be hurt?_

The answer is that he can’t. If he’s going to accept the fact that Zoro is involved in this world of gangs and yakuza and ‘family businesses’, if he wants to stay with Zoro, like hell I’m giving up this easily, if someone needs his help, especially someone as poor and helpless as this girl Keimi seems to be, he simply can’t say no. 

“Alright, what do you need me to do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all things considered... this chapter sets up a lot for what's going to happen in the future... and the AU that I have in my mind is super convoluted and hard to explain. basically, in this world everyone who was a pirate in canon world is involved in organized crime here. and Sanji was right, it's a LOT like batman/gotham where there's tons of villains of various power. the 'leaders' that were mentioned are all shichibukai with two major exceptions that will come up in future chapters. leave any questions below, i'm more than happy to explain/edit -x


	15. Time Passing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another update! can you believe it? go me! as per usual, beep me in the comments to let me know how you feel. 
> 
> also i may have written a good portion of this chapter while drunk. so, sorry if things get.... sloppy. drunk me apparently really enjoys smutty zosan, who knew?
> 
> I have midterms coming up, so the next update probably won't be for another two or three weeks... sorry. BUT this chapter is the longest one i've written so far, so hopefully that makes up for it. see y'all soon! -x

Zoro’s eye is the last thing to heal. 

His vision is fine and there’s some leftover stiffness when he squints, but the worst part is the bright red jagged scar across his face. Honestly, that’s the thing that pisses him off most about being hurt. It’s not the pain; it’s not even Sanji feeling sorry for him (although that took some getting used to). The worst part is not being the person he used to be. He’s been scarred in the past, but having to look in the mirror and see a physical reminder of being haunted by his past life is the worst part of his day. Especially since he can’t claim the scar with honor or pride, he had no control over the situation (although now there are worse things to lose than control). He tries to think of it as a mark of survival, not weakness.

He gets over it eventually, (he’s over a lot of things by now). Today is the first day Zoro finally feels normal again. It’s the beginning of his second week back at work, and nobody is staring at him awkwardly anymore, nobody is trying to help him, or express fake sympathy for him. Nobody except Luffy knows exactly what Zoro has gone through in his life, and because of that Zoro won’t accept sympathy from anyone. Well, except from Sanji. Maybe. 

Sanji has been a godsend through this entire time. He doesn’t ask questions, he doesn’t act like he knows what Zoro is going through, and most wonderfully: Sanji doesn’t let Zoro get away with feeling sorry for himself. It took awhile for them to get through Zoro’s injury, it’s simply not possible for one person in a relationship to get shot and then pretend like nothing happened, but everyday Zoro thanks the universe (because thanking the stars didn’t help and he’s pretty sure that god isn’t helping) that Sanji is still by his side. 

Noticeably by his side, actually. Zoro is doing his morning push-ups (175 total) while Sanji lazily watches from the bedside (he may never get over seeing Sanji after he wakes up).

“You could join in if you really wanted to,” Zoro huffs in between each repetition. 

“What, and spoil the excellent view? I don’t think so.” Sanji yawns, wrapped up in bed sheets.

“Why are you still here anyway? Don’t you have a job to be at?” Zoro says (78). 

“Mmm. That’s the beauty of owning your own business: see, I can open late and nobody will give me shit about it. Besides, nobody except for you ever comes in for breakfast. I think it will be ok if I open just a tad bit late.” Sanji stretches luxuriously on the bed, almost making a point of how comfortable it is while Zoro is stuck in the middle of his morning workout (92).

“Actually, it’s 6:30am. All Blue doesn’t even officially open until 9, so that makes no sense. What are you doing?” 

“Well he isn’t as stupid as he looks! Maybe I’m leaving room for some alternate morning activities.”

Zoro begins to count out loud now, maybe the blonde does have a point about a different type of morning workout (117). 

“Aren’t you stronger than this marimo? I would have thought you’d be finished by now. Hell, if it was me I would have been done by now for sure,” Sanji moves one leg so that it rests provocatively atop the comforter, the bastard is trying to get on Zoro’s nerves with his dirty talk (130). 

“Asshole, I’m doing this with one good leg, I’d like to see you try.”

“Well I’m sure I’d at least look better than you if I did. See?” Zoro briefly pauses to catch Sanji flip over on the bed and waggle his hips in a daring manner. Damn the cook, this is hard enough without enticing bedroom talk (150). 

Zoro finally reaches 175 pushups and quickly jumps onto the bed, perhaps ungracefully landing on Sanji. 

“Oh? And did you have something else in mind to work on that physique?” Zoro asks.

“Well I wasn’t completely sure if you’d be up to it,” Sanji adjusts his position so that Zoro can feel the beginning of his erection. “Something about adult responsibilities and the like.”

“Hmm, well I don’t remember ever saying anything about being an adult.” Zoro rubs slowly against Sanji’s groin, enjoying the agreeable feeling of hardness meeting hardness. 

Together, he and Sanji meet in the middle for a pleasantly slow kiss. 

“Do you know the worst part of two guys being together is? ” Sanji whispers.

“I honestly couldn’t tell you,” Zoro says, thoroughly distracted by Sanji’s nipples. 

“The problem is that it’s twice as easy for someone to get hard and get things started, you know?”

Zoro has moved up to Sanji’s neck and has to stifle a laugh. “Are you complaining?”

“God no,” Sanji moans. Zoro could listen to Sanji moan all day; it’s become so exhilarating, so wonderful to hear that he stiffens completely at the sound. 

Underneath him, Sanji lightly pushes Zoro off of his chest and wiggles further downwards, (way further down), until Sanji’s tongue is pressed lightly against Zoro’s member through his boxers. Zoro bucks slightly at the touch, and rolls over gently to allow Sanji further access. 

Sanji’s tongue works gently, then insistently against Zoro’s cock. His wet mouth moves along the cotton fabric, soaking it in anticipation and desire. Zoro can’t help his breathing becoming faster as he softly calls out the blonde’s name. 

In response, Sanji swiftly divests himself and Zoro of their remaining clothes until Sanji is the only thing pressed against Zoro. Fuck, Zoro will never tire of seeing Sanji’s naked, brilliant body pressed tightly against his own. 

With his bad knee, Zoro can’t be as forceful, or as insistent as he would like. Normally he and Sanji would sensuously wrestle over position, but in the spirit of lazy morning sex, Zoro lays back and allows himself to take his own pleasure from Sanji. For his own part, Sanji seems willing to play along. 

Taking Zoro’s cock deep within his own mouth, Sanji sucks deeply and slowly allowing Zoro to feel every inch, every movement that he allows with his own mouth. Zoro’s hips move involuntarily, seeking the deepest pleasure possible. He feels fingers press and hold his body down, and it requires every inch of Zoro’s focus to remain still on the bed. Still, his fingers and toes curl into the bed sheets as Sanji’s mouth fucks every inch of Zoro’s length. Soon he is quivering and silently begging for more. It’s amazing how one person can make him feel. 

Somewhere in between his breathless sighs, Sanji abandons his oral fixation and moves towards the bedside table. Zoro barely notices, except for the sudden coldness that hits his lower half, but quickly recovers when Sanji sits down gracefully, pulling Zoro into his lap. Hands move between Zoro’s legs, pushing them apart, until a hand and softly cups his balls. Somehow Zoro manages to find Sanji’s face in the middle of everything and brings it closer to his own, kissing deeply, needing the taste of Sanji on his own tongue.

A cool touch between his cheeks startles him, but Sanji’s talented tongue soon distracts him so thoroughly that he doesn’t notice the first finger inside of him until it brushes so tenderly against that deep spot inside him. Involuntarily, Zoro squirms down until Sanji is more than knuckle deep inside of him searching for pleasure. Sanji quickly obliges him and soon another finger is inside, scissoring against the other and causing Zoro to buck his hips from desire. 

“Fuck, Sanji. This was a great idea.”

“I’m full of them, you know.” Sanji whispers, and then the sudden absence of warmth inside of him makes Zoro whimper, though he’d never admit it. 

Soon though Sanji is pressed against Zoro’s entrance, and he quickly slides home causing Zoro’s back to arch gently. 

Within no time at all, Sanji is moving his hips mercilessly slow but pounding forcefully into Zoro. 

“I’m going to fuck you balls deep, until you are a shaking mess screaming out my name,” Sanji teases.

“Dirty talk, shit cook? That’s generally not your style.” Zoro decides to respond in kind, two can play this game after all. “I’d like to see you try and make me scream.” 

Soon cries and moans of pleasure fill the bedroom. Occasionally the angle between the two of them shifts perfectly causing Zoro to stifle his own cries (he can’t let Sanji win after all) and his head to twist into the pillow beneath him. Sanji doesn’t stop his dirty talk, keeping his hands and mouth roaming all over Zoro’s body. Zoro particularly likes it when Sanji’s mouth ghosts over the small flower tattoo on his side or when Sanji softly caresses the scar on his chest. 

“Do you like being nailed marimo? Do you like being screwed into oblivion? You belong to me, don’t you ever forget it.” Zoro’s legs are resting on the sides of Sanji’s arms, his prostate hit on every thrust of Sanji’s. Hell, Sanji is good at this. Zoro’s thighs begin to quiver and his heart speeds up alarmingly. 

“Fuck yes, Sanji. More, harder, deeper,” He pants out and Sanji willingly complies. Eventually his chest grows unbearably warm and his muscles turn to jelly. The only thing on Zoro’s mind is Sanji’s hot cock buried deep within him, and it only brings him closer to orgasm. 

Because he can bear it no longer, Zoro grabs his own cock and begins jerking off in time to Sanji’s wild thrusts. With his own light grip and Sanji sending vibrations through every fiber of his being, it doesn’t take long until Zoro curls in on himself. Every muscle tightens and he comes shockingly hard. With Sanji’s name on his lips, he cries out as his breath comes short, eyes closed tight, his brain on fire. Spent, he tries to relax but is unsuccessful as Sanji continues his pounding for a few more thrusts until a string of choice French curses rings through Zoro’s ears and Sanji bites hard into his shoulder. 

Soon they are both collapsed on the bed, a tangle of limbs, albeit a careful one as Sanji has to avoid Zoro’s hurt knee. Zoro keeps his eyes closed trying to center himself, but also still reveling in the aftermath of ecstasy. He opens one eye to see Sanji lounging on the side of the bed, lighting a cigarette. 

“It’s weird that you smoke after sex, you know? It’s so cliché, makes me feel like I’m dating the hot girl from art class,” Zoro chuckles. 

“Dessine-moi comme une de tes filles française, Salaud” Sanji bites back. *

Zoro throws a pillow at Sanji in response. He’s not 100% sure what Sanji just said but the tone doesn’t need translation. Sanji responds by engulfing Zoro in a cloud of smoke.

“So,” Sanji starts after a luxurious moment of silence. “I’ve been talking with Robin and Nami.”

Zoro tenses up immediately, that is the exact opposite of what he wants to hear this morning. Very little good comes out of talking with Robin and Nami, especially considering recent events. He doesn’t want Sanji involved. The worst part is he knows that Sanji is capable of fighting and protecting himself; Zoro isn’t stupid enough to think Sanji can’t handle whatever comes after them. In fact, a small (extremely small) part of Zoro wishes that Sanji would go out and get his ass kicked so Zoro can smugly say ‘I told you so.’ Or maybe, Sanji will go out and show people that they are not to be trifled with and Zoro can spend the rest of his life not looking out of the corner of his eye and tracking shadows down the streets. He’s not sure which hypothetical he likes more. 

“Oh?” He says, trying to avoid saying anything else that will dissolve what could potentially be a civil conversation (although usually Sanji is anything but civil). 

“That’s all you have to say? Oh?”

“What else do you want me to say Sanji?” Zoro raises himself off the bed and begins putting clothes on, getting ready for work. He’ll probably be late today. 

“I don’t know. You were so outspoken about this a week ago. But I can’t say no in this situation. Someone needs help,” Sanji says now sprawled under the sheets, cigarette in hand. “I thought you’d jump at the chance to yell at me.”

“I’ve already said my bit, do what you want.” Zoro’s hands shake slightly as he attempts to button his shirt. 

The truth is that he doesn’t want to get into this again. He’s tired of bringing up the same argument, tired of reliving the stress of what his life used to be. He buried Kuina, and he buried his past life. He’s made peace with who he is now. He won’t ever forgive Mihawk, but he’s not ready to face the bastard yet. If Zoro starts yelling at Sanji about this now, he might not ever stop yelling. 

“Yeah asshole, I will do what I want. I can’t believe you’re so angry about the whole thing though,” Sanji says as a large puff of smoke blows over the bed.

“Drop it, I’m not angry. What do you care anyway? You’re just going to march to the beat of your own drum anyway. What, did you wake up this morning and decide to jump my bones and then pick a stupid, meaningless fight? No thanks, asshole, I’m not up for it and if you keep this up you will still end up in the wrong.” Zoro can’t find a matching sock and he’s absurdly angry about it. Why won’t Sanji drop the conversation? He’s already given up, it’s not important any more. 

“What the fuck is the matter with you? You think I’m useless? That I can’t defend myself? That I’m weak?” Sanji sits up on the bed, his anger clear on his face. 

“You are the exact opposite of weak. Fine, is that what you wanted me to say? That you’re not useless? What do you want from me?” Zoro rages as he paces around the bedroom, every step needlessly loud. 

“I want you to stop acting like a child! I want you to explain yourself to me! I want to know why you’re so angry about this whole thing, and why you keep denying that you are! You’re a shit-headed, unfeeling bastard, who thinks that being emotional is a sign of weakness and I’m not having it right now!” Sanji screams at full volume from his spot on the bed, his cheeks red from the effort of yelling. 

Anger runs through Zoro, and all of the muscles in his back tighten. He closes his eyes, and tries to take a deep breath. It doesn’t work, and the next thing he knows he is opening his eyes to see his fist in the middle of the wall. He pulls his arm out of the drywall and close to his chest although it doesn’t hurt. He’s more shocked that he lashed out physically. Now he’ll have to stare at the stupid hole in the wall every day, just like he has to stare at the ugly scar on his face. Great. Just fucking fantastic. 

“Alright, you want me to get angry! Well fine, I’m LIVID. I’m pissed because you don’t fucking listen, Sanji! You live in your own perfect world, in your own perfect little head where you just pretend that life is all ponies and daisies! Your life was fucked up but you still can’t seem to get it through that thick ugly skull of yours that maybe mine was too,” Zoro spits the words out venomously. “You didn’t think there’s a reason why I didn’t want you to work with the crew on this job, all you thought about was YOU. I got hurt Sanji, I got fucking shot a few weeks ago. You think I like being covered in scars from head to toe? Did you stop and think about how I even got them? Did you ever stop and wonder how I talk about my sister all the time, but you’ve never actually met her? Did you, Sanji? Or were you only thinking about poor little you? This isn’t about you. It never has been. So why don’t you calm your prissy self down and grow the hell up.” Zoro stalks out of the bedroom, and pausing to grab his briefcase from the kitchen table walks out of the front door slamming it behind him. 

Well, shit. That could have gone a lot better. Unfortunately it seems that walking out during a fight is becoming a pattern between Zoro and Sanji. He calls Usopp for a ride to work (Usopp picks him up as he heads away from the office). 

Sanji shows up to the office for Lunch. Zoro thinks that maybe Sanji will apologize, but honestly he’s not sure he can stand to hear an apology. Really, Zoro should be sorry for saying what he did, but he’s not. He said what he needed to say, what he’d been bottling up since the accident. He won’t apologize for saying what was on his mind, although he could have said it in a better way. 

“Hey,” Sanji says softly, setting down a bag of food on the desk between them. 

“Hey.” Zoro turns his chair to face Sanji. He doesn’t want to be the first one to talk. He shouldn’t have to be the first one to explain (there’s an awful lot of awful things he doesn’t want to have to explain). 

They exchange meaningless pleasantries, Zoro’s day is fine, and Sanji’s catering gig this morning went without a hitch, the usual. Zoro inwardly sighs, will they get over this? Zoro doesn’t think he pushed too far, but he’s still angry, and he still feels like he has the right to be. Sanji didn’t ask, and he didn’t think, he pushed buttons that he’s too good at pushing and they argued as a result. But even though he’s still upset, he doesn’t want to fight like this with Sanji. Any other fight Zoro would be fine with, hell he gets off on riling up Sanji, but where emotions are concerned they both tend to say (yell) things they don’t mean. 

Sanji is the first to say something. 

“So. I get that you’re still mad. I am too. But it doesn’t change anything.” Sanji stares at the wall behind Zoro. “I’m sorry for making this whole gang thing about me. That was dumb, but you know that’s just a part of who I am.” He shrugs, dismissing the matter. 

“That’s a hell of an apology,” Zoro says sardonically. 

“Asshole. I’m trying, ok? I do that, I make things about me. I’m not perfect, but frankly neither are you. You’re gruff, and uncultured, and utterly graceless, but you care about me and I AM sorry for dismissing that.” 

Zoro stares at Sanji for a few seconds, trying to gage the entire situation and organize the thoughts rambling around in his head. Sanji helps by filling in the blanks. 

“So yeah, I made it about me, but only because you made it about you first. Nami was right, this is bigger than all of us. I have a part to play in this now, and I’m not backing off because we’re scared. And yes, I’m scared too. Zoro, I can’t possibly explain how terrified I am that this is a part of my life again. I still don’t really understand what’s going on. Hell, I may never understand you. But I’m trying, and I want to help; I need to help. I can’t say no when someone asks for my help, especially with something like this. And I sure as hell can’t be the asshole who says ‘peace out’ when things get dangerous. You know I’m not that kind of guy. That’s all there is to it.” Sanji ends his explanation staring directly at Zoro. 

Well, fuck. The blonde is right of course, (he usually is). But even with everything between them, magically he doesn’t feel like the bad guy. Sanji and Nami are right, this is bigger than the both of them, and he doesn’t really have a say. 

“No, you’re right. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry, I’m just frustrated I think,“ Zoro relents. “I’m frustrated that I’ll never get out of this life, frustrated that I got hurt, and irritated because it involves you, and nothing gets on my nerves quite like you.”

Sanji’s stare softens into a smirk, and he unpacks the food on the desk, enough for both of them. It’s comforting that even though they fight every minute they’re together, Sanji (usually) never plans on leaving. 

“So what happens now?” Zoro asks, mouth half full of food. 

“You’re not going to like it,” Sanji says pointedly. 

“I really don’t like anything about this if we’re being honest with each other. I don’t even really like you that much,” Zoro chuckles. 

“Aw, I thought moving in together was what ‘liking’ each other meant! I feel so used,” Sanji jokes, and takes several bites of food. But then his expression turns serious and slightly grim. 

“I’m leaving.”

“What?” Zoro cries out, the surprise statement hitting him hard enough to make him choke on his bite of food. He thinks he misheard, he must have gotten that last bit wrong. Sanji would never walk away. 

“I’m leaving,” Sanji repeats. “For this case. Robin and Nami have it all planned out: I’m the inside man. I got this job working as a cook under a scumbag, but it’s not close and they say I’ve got to worry about blowing my cover or something. So I’m going to be gone for a while. That’s probably why I decided to pick a fight with you this morning.” 

“No. No, don’t do this. You can’t leave like this.” Zoro’s voice drops to a harsh whisper. This can’t be happening. “Not after everything that’s happened. I’m not going to let you walk away from me. From this. From us.”

“I won’t be gone for good. You know that right? It’s just until we finish this job. The others seem pretty upset too, I guess this is a tough gig for everybody. I don’t want to leave, but I don’t think I can live with myself if I don’t help out.” Sanji is back to avoiding Zoro’s eyes, his fringe covering more of his face then usual. 

“But this does change things. Let me convince you that this isn’t worth you leaving, please,” Zoro softly growls, anger and disappointment sinking into his core. 

“If it helps at all, I don’t want it to change anything. This… THING is a part of our lives now, I can’t change that; but I also can’t just sit around knowing we’re both a part of it. You know that,” Sanji shrugs.

Zoro nods his head. He does know that. He’s seen Sanji do unbelievably petty and stupid things. But he’s also seen him give out food to people who can’t pay and to the homeless. Sanji really is a good guy, the best kind of guy actually. He shouldn’t be surprised that Sanji is just trying to help. Zoro would feel ashamed of his selfishness except for 1) he knows exactly what Sanji is walking into, and 2) Sanji is too important for Zoro to not try to protect him. 

“When are you leaving?” Zoro finally asks. 

“Now.”

Zoro isn’t above begging at this point. He can’t lose Sanji, he’s irrevocably tied to the other man, whether he likes it or not. But he can’t bring himself to do it. He can’t get in the way of another man’s private ambition. This isn’t about him any longer, and if he is really being honest, Sanji is probably the perfect guy for the job. It’s hard for Zoro to admit that he can’t be in control of every element of his life. But Sanji and that girl Keimi are people; Zoro can’t control the way the world turns and he has to be accepting of decisions other people make. But it is so goddamn hard to give up control. 

“For the record, I AM sorry. I’m the asshole here.” Sanji picks his suit jacket off of his chair, slowly shrugging into it. “Goodbye, Zoro.”

Zoro stands up and quickly walks around his desk. He grabs Sanji around the waist and forces their lips together in a close and desperate kiss. It’s equally intimate and distressing. Zoro can’t stand to see Sanji go, but he also knows Sanji will hate himself if he stays. Sanji, for his part, is upset about leaving, and they both savor the taste of the other in the kiss. They say as much as they can through the close contact, but soon Zoro breaks away. 

“It’s not goodbye. It’s ‘see you later,’ right?” Zoro lets the unspoken question (and invitation) hang in the air. Sanji has to come back. 

“You won’t be getting rid of me that easily. See you later, marimo.”

****

Zoro doesn’t see Sanji for an entire month.

The silence in his apartment is the worst. 

He sits in the living room eating shitty take-out food, listening to the clock on the wall tick. It’s unbearably loud. Normally he’d be arguing with Sanji about something right now; the cook’s loud mouth and dress shoes smacking against the parquet floor would drown out the ambient noise of the apartment. 

He hates being alone. He’d never realized how unhappy he was before he met Sanji, and how it all stemmed from being alone. He’s been on his own almost his entire life: his sister died too young, he wasn’t close to anyone growing up because of the fear of losing another loved one, and as a teenager he drowned his sorrows in the underground night life of the yakuza. Luffy was his saving grace, but Sanji has left his mark in ways Zoro can’t even comprehend. 

He’s in love with Sanji. It’s ironic, and unfortunate, and all kinds of fucked up that it took Sanji leaving for him to realize that. Even though he knows the cook is coming back, even though he’d KNOW if something happened, his mind runs down dark alleys bringing up images he can’t bear to dwell on. He can’t lose Sanji; won’t lose Sanji. 

It hurts to love someone, he’d never realized that. It’s not wearing your heart on your sleeve, or knowing that you’ve finally found a place to belong. No, it’s more visceral than that. It’s like severing your own veins and arteries and reattaching them to another person. Love is knowing that another person can break you and freely giving them that power. It’s a connection that runs through every nerve ending, overpowering all other senses and running latent under the skin. It’s about fighting, and trusting, and caring too deeply about everything. Love is feeling everything at once in equally terrifying and blissful parts. 

He loves Sanji, but he hates himself for not standing next to him. 

_Tick_. He breathes in the lingering scent of cigarette smoke, trying to remember why he ever yelled at Sanji for smoking. 

_Tock_. He can’t go into the kitchen without missing the familiar heat of someone cooking on the stove. He remembers vividly one morning where Sanji cooked breakfast with only a (surprisingly and deliciously short) towel around his waist. 

_Tick_. The bed is uncomfortably empty and cold with only one person lying in it. Zoro’s pillows smell like the cook’s vanilla conditioner. Zoro will never admit it, but he uses the conditioner more than once while Sanji is gone. 

_Tock_. He tries to cook dinner one night, a simple recipe Sanji taught him during their first month together. It tastes off, even though he’s sure he followed the recipe exactly. The dining room is too dark for just one person to eat in. 

_Tick_. He goes to work earlier in the morning and returns home later at night. Zoro can’t bear the thought of being in an empty apartment more than he has to. 

_Tock_. Now he’s buzzed off of his sixth beer, too exhausted and too miserable to move to the bedroom. 

_Tick_. He takes the batteries out of the clock. 

_Knock- Knock._

It’s an unfamiliar sound; Zoro doesn’t usually have company, and the crew almost never knocks. Unsure why someone would want to see him, he moves to open the door. 

His blonde hair is parted on the other side, and he seems taller somehow. It looks like he hasn’t shaved in a while judging by the full goatee sprouting from his chin.

“Hey marimo. Can I come in?”

Zoro doesn’t say anything for a few moments. Sanji had never said when he’d be back, and there’s been radio silence between the two of them. Zoro is shocked, but he’s unbelievably happy. Sanji is back, and Zoro plans on never letting him go again. He moves forward, and punches Sanji right in the jaw. 

His fist glances off and Sanji shrugs off the punch, lightly rubbing his hand along his jaw. 

“You’re never leaving like that again,” Zoro states, his anger and desperation obvious. But before Sanji can argue back, or complain, or do anything to ruin the moment, Zoro catches Sanji in a tight embrace breathing in the smell of cigarettes, vanilla, and musk. Sanji smells the way home should. 

They stay like that, arms locked securely around each other, standing in the open doorway. 

“How are you?” Zoro asks into Sanji’s shoulder, because he’s not sure what else he can say right now. 

“I’m tired,” Sanji murmurs back, his breath tickling Zoro’s ear. 

“Alright then, come to bed.” Zoro takes Sanji by the hand and leads him to the bedroom. 

He sleeps through the entire night for the first time in a month.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *he's saying "draw me like one of your french girls, bastard (or at least, that's what i was trying to say.. again i definitely don't speak french)
> 
> HA you thought Keimi's story was going to be important.   
> It's not. 
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you for all of your support and for keeping up with this! I love you all! -x


	16. The Flower that Blooms in Adversity

Sanji tries to return to normal life, but it’s hard. 

He still wakes up with nightmares about what happened to him as a kid, and they’re not getting any better after the things he saw over the past month. 

It was hell. Not only was he separated from Zoro but he had to work in the system of pimps, assholes, and bosses he despises down to his very core. If he’d been there for any longer, Sanji is sure he might have snapped, and then he certainly wouldn’t be standing where he is right now. 

Admittedly, life was never really normal in the first place, but now Sanji feels like he’s caught between two opposing worlds he feels equally attached to. On one hand, he has a job and a life and something of a family that he is dedicated to; that’s the normal world. 

On the other hand, Zoro is a huge part of his life and now that he knows exactly what is going on behind the curtain he can’t go back to pretending to be innocent and ignorant. That’s not how the world works. He’s tied down. Hopefully things in the future won’t be as bad as they are at the moment. 

Not to say that everything is bad; he’s back with Zoro at least. All of the resentment that had built up between them with Sanji’s leaving, and Zoro’s accident, and the fighting, has completely dissipated into sheer relief at being back together. 

Sanji starts his routine up again. Now that he is completely moved in with Zoro (he subleased his own apartment to cover costs, and it’s not like he was spending a significant amount of time there anyway), Zoro gets breakfast almost every morning and Sanji doesn’t spend his nights cold and alone. He is especially eager to start cooking as a real profession again; cooking for that son-of-a-bitch-damn-that-freak-pimp-bastard-to-hell Disco was a new level of torture and, _no. Don’t think about that. Think about the present, you can’t go back and change what happened. You’re home safe, you got the job done._

Cooking is going really well at least. It feels normal to stand back in HIS kitchen, interacting with HIS customers. He fields off questions about his absence with various nonsense situations. _I took a patisserie course in Paris… my boyfriend took me on vacation to Hawaii… I adopted a war-orphan… I taught kids in a juvenile prison how to cook… I tried out for Masterchef._ As long as he doesn’t have to talk about why he was really missing for a month he’ll be fine. 

Really, he IS fine. And the next person who asks him that will be introduced swiftly to the bottom of his foot. 

He’s just… haunted by what he saw. Haunted by the things that are everyday occurrence in the world of gangs, slums, and pimps. He’s glad his own troubles extended only as far as Kreig, but also glad that he had the opportunity to help out another person. He can live with the occasional nightmare and the sporadic feeling of being watched if it means the poison running latent under the country’s streets affects one less person. He’s a chef, he helps people; it’s what he does. 

So, yeah, returning to normal life isn’t exactly easy. It’s not like he really expected anything different, he now knows that being with Zoro means there isn’t anything normal about life anymore. That’s just how the whole thing works. 

Such is life when Sanji shows up to work on a cold November morning. He and Zoro had participated in some exceptionally vigorous… morning exercise that may or may not have involved several of Sanji’s ties, and he was running late after trying to find one that wasn’t wrinkled or… dirty. So he’s running a little later than usual and his head is full with the various dishes he has to make that day, as well as potential interview questions he could ask the waiter he keeps on planning to higher. All Blue just isn’t meeting it’s full potential with Sanji and a back-up line cook. 

He’s so preoccupied by his plans for the day and the memories of earlier that he almost misses the spray-paint splashed across the front window of All Blue. 

**BACK OFF IF U KNOW WHATS GOOD FOR U** is written sloppily in dark red paint coating the front entrance of the shop. The paint drips down creating a sinister look to the letters; like Sanji’s shop itself is bleeding from the attack. 

It’s disturbing, and completely unwelcoming. It would probably be more terrifying if the threat was written with proper spelling, but maybe that’s part of being threatening? Sanji sure as shit doesn’t know, but it’s the principal of the thing goddammit! It’s just not proper to spray paint rude things on other people’s windows!

Sanji curses loudly and kicks the curb in front of him, which is stupid since now he’s furious and in pain. Why would some one target him of all people? And WHY did they have to ruin his shop?! There’s nothing particularly dangerous about a catering shop. It’s not like he’s harboring criminals or acting as a cover-up for illegal activity?

Actually, that may be exactly why All Blue is now covered in paint. 

He calls Zoro because he doesn’t know who else can help him with this. He angrily tries to describe exactly what happened, but if Sanji is bad at one thing, it’s explaining things under stress. His bursts of cursing and rambling in French must clue Zoro in to the fact that something is wrong, because soon both Zoro and Usopp show up at All Blue. 

At this point Sanji is already inside baking croissants and bread, trying to prepare for the day’s business, but he’s got an ashtray full of cigarette butts on the back counter and he is thoroughly pissed off. 

“Sanji, what the hell happened?” Zoro and Usopp burst into the back kitchen, both speaking simultaneously. 

“I’d like to know what happened as well. All I know is I showed up this morning and _that,”_ Sanji can’t even bring himself to mention the vandalism by name, “was defacing my property.” He kicks the cabinet in front of him in rage. He really should stop doing that. 

“Seems like someone was certainly trying to send a message.” Usopp whistles when he sees the extent of the damage done to the front window. 

“What I want to know is who, and why, so I can make sure this doesn’t happen again.” Zoro has a small vein popping in his neck and Sanji can see Zoro is just as angry with this as he is. 

“W-W-Well we should probably start by cleaning this whole mess up. I don’t think you’ll get many customers with this threat across your door,” Usopp manages to break the atmosphere of anger overwhelming the shop. 

Sanji and Zoro agree and they spend the next hour scrubbing paint off of the window in relative silence intermixed with curses and low, guttural growls. They manage to wipe off all of the words, but a slight red tint remains on the window giving the shop a sinister air. Sanji worries that they’ll have to leave it like that until Usopp volunteers to paint a Christmas ‘All Blue’ design. Sanji gratefully agrees. 

Sanji is lucky that ‘late’ for him is significantly earlier than ‘on time’ for most people. After spending an hour scrubbing paint he still has more than enough time to make a snack for his rescuers and continue on his catering prep for the day without any serious delays. Still, the feeling of being watched doesn’t disappear as the day goes on. 

He’s shaken. He knew that life wouldn’t be the same—he just didn’t expect the reminder to be so loud, or in this case so brightly splashed on his window. 

Sanji’s month continuous in a similar vein, though All Blue receives no more threats and vandalism. And if Zoro is being a little more clingy and standoffish than usual, well Sanji simply attributes that to Zoro’s usual mood swings. Sanji was gone for a whole month after all, it seems natural now that he’s back for Zoro to be slightly overbearing and more cuddly than usual, _right_?

He isn’t worried about anything until the flowers start showing up. Everyday, when Sanji opens the shop, he finds a white flower leaning against the front door. It’s not the same flower every day, and Sanji has no idea what to make of it. 

He’s scared. 

He’s scared because he doesn’t know what it means. He doesn’t know if it has anything to do with him, and he isn’t sure if he should be taking it seriously. _Who the fuck uses flowers as a threat?_

Yet still every morning, there is a simple white flower strewn in front of All Blue, and every morning Sanji throws it in the trash and continues on with his day. He decides not to dwell on it. Nothing has happened yet, and there’s no reason to suppose why something should happen. As long as Sanji keeps his head down, does what he’s best at, sticks next to Zoro, and moves on with his life, everything will be utterly and completely fine. Ok, maybe ‘fine’ is asking for a lot. At least that is what he can tell himself at night so he can fall asleep. Still, it bothers him. Who is leaving flowers? Why? What could it possibly mean, and why choose him?

Zoro is the one who finally notices something is wrong, and the one who does something about it. 

Sanji is preparing a private breakfast for the two of them at All Blue. He has an early breakfast catering event and Zoro has a sudden influx of cases to research so they both decide to get an early, and hopefully productive, start to the day. Sanji has been so overwhelmed with everything that he actually fails to notice the absence of All Blue’s usual morning décor; there is no flower waiting for him. 

It isn’t until Zoro is leaving the shop that the metaphorical shoe drops. Zoro is walking out of the front door when Sanji hears the front door abruptly slam and the lock turn. Zoro’s loud steps make their way back towards the kitchen followed closely by a “What the hell is this Sanji?”

Sanji briefly turns his head away from the pie-crust in front of him, fingers still moving around the plate gracefully maneuvering dough. In his hands Zoro holds a single white hibiscus flower, the third hibiscus to appear. 

“Um, mosshead are you ok? It’s obviously a flower.” Sanji hides his worry behind his long hair and a faux smirk on his lips. 

“That’s not what I mean, Sanji. Why is there a white flower sitting on your doorstep?” Zoro’s voice is gruff and strained; heavy and full of hidden emotion. 

“I obviously couldn’t tell you, it’s been like that for a while,” Sanji ducks his head and he places his pie-crust inside the pre-heated oven. He’s obviously trying to hide the fact that he has also been anxious over the flowers for a while. But that’s stupid, there’s nothing to fear from plants. “It’s a flower, marimo, it’s not going to hurt me.” 

“It’s not just a flower cook, and you knew that. Why didn’t you say anything to me?” Zoro demands. Sanji tries and fails to shrug off the accusation of distrust. 

“What, and complain about something stupid like this? ‘Oh marimo save me, someone has been leaving threatening _flowers_ at my door. Right. Because that’s a thing that people worry about,” Sanji has to take a deep breath to center himself and make sure that his voice doesn’t shake and give away just how worried he really is. In a way he’s glad that Zoro found the flower, now maybe he’ll find out whether he truly does have anything to worry about or not. 

In response, Zoro walks over and delivers a painful kick to Sanji’s left leg. It’s nothing damaging, nor any worse than getting hit with one of Zoro’s katana but the message is clear: Sanji is being an idiot. 

“In the future,” Zoro drawls, “fucking tell me about this shit, curly brow. It’s a lot more serious than you think. Close up shop early today and meet me at the house. Pack a bag; congratulations, we’re going on a spontaneous vacation. I’ll see you tonight.”

Zoro stalks out of the shop and throws the flower vehemently into the trashcan on his way out. Sanji growls softly as the front door slams and he’s forced to return to work with Zoro’s words running through his mind. Maybe he really does have something to worry about. 

Sanji will admit it: he hides behind his bravado. On the surface is a man who is an obnoxious flirt, who picks fights, and lets his kicks and anger speak for him. But it is situations like these that remind him he’s still the small scared and starving boy from years ago. Not much has changed; he’s only gotten better at hiding the fact that the real world terrifies him. 

Later, when Sanji finds himself hurtling down a freeway easily driving 20 miles per hour over the speed limit, he is finding it much harder to keep up his mask of a calm and worry-free demeanor. Who knew flowers could be the source of such fear?

“So have you decided to tell me where we’re going, or what we’ll do when we get there? Or maybe you’ll enlighten me on what the fuck is actually going on? Better yet, please explain why a white flower means so much to you?” Sanji spits through his teeth as his hands grip tighter on the steering wheel, almost turning his knuckles white. 

“I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark here marimo. Screw this whole ‘I’m protecting me crap.’ Talk.”

“You want to know why I’m so pissed off, cook? Because there’s a hit out on you and it’s my fault. How’s that for an explanation?”

Sanji instinctively slams on the breaks, thankful that there is no one else on the road around him.

“No no no no no. I’m sorry run that by me again. Someone is out to kill me?” He exclaims. 

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t think it was important to maybe mention this earlier?” 

They are still parked in the middle of the road. 

“You didn’t think mentioning the flowers might have been important, what with everything going on?”

“Don’t pin the blame on me. I’m not the one who is fucking responsible for a death wish against me.”

“No, I am.”

“WHAT?”

“Look, Sanji, can you just drive? I promise I’ll explain when we get to the house, but for now I’m trying to sort out everything for myself and THEN I’ll try to come up with a good explanation for you.” Zoro huffs and sinks lower into his seat. 

“Yeah, you’d better had a DAMN good explanation for everything.” Sanji takes his foot off the brake and continues driving down the dark road. 

They drive, and they drive. If Sanji weren’t driving, he would have had no idea of even the general direction they are headed. They pass dark and misty fields, strange twisted woods, and open roads that seemingly lead to the edge of the earth. After what seems like eons, but really was only a few hours in a silent car, they drive up a long, winding driveway to a huge house. The glowing lights from the first floor illuminate the manicured lawn and the wrap-around wooden deck. Sanji parks the car and stares up at the house in awe. 

“Where are we?”

“You’ll see,” Zoro mumbles as he retrieves the luggage from the back of the car. 

They walk up to the front door, Sanji briefly pausing as he catches sight of the strange doorknocker: a large hybrid of a bear and a flower. 

As they enter the house, the first thing Sanji notices is the intricate wood paneling, and the sheer size of the foyer he has stepped into. He gasps slightly as he takes in his surroundings: hardwood floors, beautiful crown molding, and subtle lighting placed throughout. 

The second thing Sanji notices is the sudden appearance of Luffy, Nami, and Usopp. 

“Zoro? What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t supposed to be here until next weekend? And why is Sanji here? What’s going on?” Usopp bombards them with questions as he approaches them. 

“We got found out. There’s been a slight change of plan. It’s not safe for us right now.” Zoro sighs and absently rubs the back of his neck as he carefully sets the luggage down. 

“What? Zoro, what did you do now?” Nami’s question sounds frustrated, possibly exasperated. Then again, Nami seems perpetually exasperated by the members of the crew. Sanji especially wants to know the answers to all of these questions and more. It seems like he’s not the only one that Zoro has been keeping things from. 

“I wasn’t as… subtle as I potentially could have been. That’s all I can explain for now. We need to crash here for the night, and then we can go over everything in the morning. But right now, I’m going to sleep.” 

Sanji watches in partial disbelief as Zoro hefts the luggage up, and pushes through his friends. He can’t believe that Zoro is still avoiding the topic, and he isn’t sure if he should follow or stay behind and try to learn more. He needs to know what’s going on; he deserves to know why he was dragged to a mansion to meet the crew. Sanji is sick and tired of being kept in the dark, and he plans to change things. Quickly. 

“Oi, marimo, wait up! I’m not finished with you!”

He follows a silent Zoro through the foyer and into the first bedroom they come to. 

“I guess your room is the closest one to the door so you don’t get lost, huh?” Sanji tries to make light of the situation, although he has no idea how dark what he’s stepped into is. Thankfully, he’s rewarded with a small chuckle from Zoro. It can’t necessarily be called a laugh, but it’s something. 

“Shut up shit cook. Come here please. We have a lot to talk about tomorrow, but for tonight, you do not get to leave my side. You can be mad at me in the morning, but for now I need you beside me. Think you can manage to put up with that?”

“Idiot, I’ve been putting up with your shit since day one. Scoot the fuck over, you’re taking up too much space in the bed.”

Curled up together on the bed, Sanji feels safe for what is probably the first time in months. It’s scary to him, to know that he’s in deep shit again. But he’s currently reveling in the realization that Zoro’s arms feel like home. 

He drifts off to sleep unsettled. 

He dreams he’s walking behind Zoro, but can never seem to catch up to the other man. Street after street turns into walking through dimly it hallways, with only glimpses of green and the sound of footsteps for Sanji to follow. The dream shifts as the lights in the hallway begin to dim, and suddenly they reach the end of a hallway, Sanji finally catching up to Zoro. Zoro turns around to say something, but before he can fully process what was said the floor disappears underneath Sanji’s feet. He stretches his arm out, but it’s too late. Sanji slips through Zoro’s fingers and hurtles down a dark narrow tunnel. 

Sanji wakes suddenly, chest heaving like there’s not enough oxygen in the world to fill his lungs. Zoro is stretched out beside him, but with a characteristic crease in his forehead; Zoro must be having troubling dreams as well. Sanji moves closer and lays his head on Zoro’s broad and warm chest. He feels Zoro unconsciously wrap arms around him and he drifts off once more, no longer afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmm. i'm not sure about this chapter. something feels off in the characterization and the pacing, but for the life of me i can't put my finger on it. 
> 
> let me know how you're feeling in the comments! x


	17. All Will Be Revealed

"You’re working out too much. Something’s wrong. You want to talk about it?” Sanji sits on the bed, wrapping the covers around him in a cocoon. 

“There’s no such thing as working out too much.”

“There is too. Just admit it. You’re nervous. Or scared. Or troubled. Probably all three.”

“I’m fine, cook.”

“Like hell. I bake when I get all fucked up in the head. You do… whatever it is you’re doing now.” 

“Doing what?”

“I don’t know what it’s fucking called mosshead. I’m just saying, you’re doing it now!”

Zoro doesn’t say anything back, only a low rumble in his throat voices his displeasure.

“How come you won’t let me get away with pretending, but as soon as you start acting weird you get mad at me for pointing it out? It’s kind of a double standard don’t you think?”

Zoro doesn’t answer, and Sanji climbs out of his nest of blankets, carefully picking up a shirt and pants from his overnight bag by the foot of the bed.

“I mean, I really don’t understand what you have against talking your problems out, seriously. You either don’t say anything, or you scream it out and I’m tired of it. We’re both three ways of fucked but you just sit quiet and steam. Those negative feelings are gonna fry you from the inside one day.” Sanji continues talking while he gets ready, barely noticing Zoro’s breathing get louder and more uneven. 

“I don’t understand why you can’t communicate in this relationship. I feel like I’m the one holding all of the words in between us. You don’t _like_ to talk that much, I get it. But you really need to start bringing things to show-and-tell here.” Sanji can feel himself getting angrier and angrier, until he’s practically spitting out his words. “You can’t just drag me halfway to the middle of nowhere without any preamble or explanation! You can’t just tell me something is wrong and then not tell me at least the basics of what’s going on! I’m tired of being kept-“ 

Sanji suddenly finds his back pressed firmly against the wall with a hand on each shoulder while his eyes try to focus at the abrupt appearance of Zoro’s green hair in front of him. Zoro has shoved him forcefully against the wall in the bedroom, immobilizing him, and definitely not in the fun-morning-sex way. It takes a moment for Sanji to fully understand what happened, and to see that Zoro is definitely struggling with the decision to hit him or not. With a snarl, Sanji raises a leg between them and powerfully kicks Zoro away, sending him crashing against the footboard of the bed.

“Whatever. I’m gonna head to the kitchen and start putting together breakfast. Come find me when you’re ready to act like an adult and admit something’s wrong.” Sanji stalks out of the bedroom and enters the common area of the house.

It’s the first time he’s seen the house in daylight, and it is astoundingly obvious that the house comes from old money. White painted crown-molding surrounds the common room, and the deep mahogany wooden floor sounds strange under Sanji’s feet. There’s a large fireplace against one wall of the room, with the furniture arranged haphazardly around it, which tells Sanji that the current occupants of the house don’t care about keeping up appearances. The common room has several doors leading off of it, and Sanji has to try three before he’s led into a hallway that looks like it might lead somewhere promising. He walks past a large wrap-around staircase, leading only god knows where; this house is unimaginably large. It’s old, and huge, but somehow equally homey. This is a house that has been lived in, and it’s classy but without many fancy details. Sanji can see small scrapes and divots in the floor, and bumps against the trim where furniture used to be.

Judging the age of the house by its details, Sanji assumes it was built back when people still had servants and butlers. If it’s true, then the kitchen is most likely towards the back of the house, secluded off. He only hopes that it’s not downstairs; it would be troublesome to have to carry food up and down a flight of stairs. 

Thankfully, the kitchen isn’t too far off of the common room, and is attached to a very spacious dining room with a large table with, of all things, an extravagant chandelier hanging over it. Sanji has never been in a house this nice in his entire life. Looking at the kitchen and the dining room he instantly claims it as his domain, imaging the feasts he could prepare and serve in the space. 

While the rest of the house is old, the kitchen has been newly renovated with top of the line, stainless steel appliances. The only testament to its age is the wood stove that has been left in the corner and the large island in the middle. 

He starts cooking, although absentmindedly. It’s not the first time Zoro has gotten rough with Sanji, and he doubts that it will be the last. He definitely doesn’t mind it, getting a reaction out of Zoro is better than anything else. But it’s still bothering him that Zoro refuses to outright talk about whatever the hell is going on without massive amounts of probing and prompting, AND that it’s taken this long for Sanji to pry out the truth. Adding to that, he STILL doesn’t know what’s going on, and he’s very, very frightened about the fact that a flower was enough to send Zoro into this spiral. Sanji is missing something, and it’s killing him. 

Eggs are whipped together; bacon, onion, and peppers thinly chopped; bread toasted; and pancakes fluffed. Sanji has prepared enough food to feed an army, but given the company he’s in, it will probably just be enough for now. 

He means to get the entire story out of Zoro, one way or the other. He’s let this slide for far too long. Sanji doesn’t want to be surprised anymore. 

_Zoro should know better, it’s not like I’m going to fucking run away._

Sanji carefully organizes the breakfast spread on the large dining room table, thoughts of Zoro circling his brain the same way he moves around the table placing silverware and glasses. Why won’t Zoro talk? Is it that it’s too painful to talk about? That he’s scared bringing it up will make it more real? Or maybe is he worried what Sanji will think once the truth is out? 

Sanji desperately hopes it’s not the latter choice. After all, Zoro has seen him at his weakest and worst point. That’s the whole point of being in love with someone right? 

Fuck. He’s in love with Zoro. 

He didn’t think it would have happened like this. Being a romantic, he expected some grand sweeping gesture to make him realize that he’s got a heart full of love. But that’s stupid, because Zoro isn’t the kind of guy to make fancy gestures. Honestly, Sanji has been in love with Zoro since August, since that one night when Zoro made him feel like he belonged. 

He’s been too caught up with himself, and then caught up in the crew and everything else that has been happening lately to admit it to his self, but it’s true. He’s madly and hopelessly in love with the man with the green hair. 

Or more accurately, he’s mad and in love with a hopeless idiot with green hair. 

If anything the sudden realization only fuels Sanji’s frustration. If they’re as close as that, how has Zoro not realized what everything means? How are they in this situation right now, and not working on actively solving the issue? What the fuck is Zoro doing? 

Luffy, Nami, Usopp, and surprisingly Robin and Franky, all trickle down to breakfast. Sanji knows that his food is good, and because he cooked the bacon on the stove he’s pretty sure you can smell breakfast throughout the house. 

“Sanji! You’re here and you made breakfast! How do you like the Sunny?” Luffy yells as he piles more food than is strictly necessary on his plate.

“The what?”

“The Thousand Sunny!”

“I still don’t understand what you’re saying Luffy.”

“It’s the name of the house.” Usopp interjects, explaining in place of Luffy, who is currently in the process of scarfing down unbelievable amounts of pancakes and bacon.

“Oh. It’s nice? I honestly haven’t seen much of it, to be honest.” Sanji shrugs. It does make sense that Luffy would name their house. “Robin, Nami, have you two lovely, radiant, goddesses had enough to eat? Let me know if there is anything more I can do for either of you?”

“More bacon!” Luffy yells from the end of the table.

“Shut up. You already have half a pig on your plate,” Sanji yells in response. 

Robin chuckles and then interjects, “perhaps another pot of coffee, chef?”

“Of course. Coming right up!”

Sanji heads back to the kitchen to make more coffee, and then thoughtfully grabs an additional pitcher of juice on his way out. He sits down at the table and joyfully engages in conversation over Nami’s current research project. 

Zoro doesn’t join them for breakfast. 

Sanji doesn’t mention it. 

When Usopp casually remarks on Zoro’s disappearance, Sanji gives him a long, pointed stare. The long-nosed man knows better than to push the subject. 

They eat in alternating bouts of friendly conversation and comfortable silence. It’s early in the morning yet, and the sudden appearance of Sanji and Zoro last night seems to have thrown everyone off of their routine. However, even though Sanji has never stepped foot in this house before, he doesn’t feel like an intruder; he feels like family. Finally. 

Over the past month, he’s spent a lot of time with Luffy and the rest of the crew. He’s seen Luffy go from being downright adorably bouncy to unquestionably serious in a matter of seconds when he though someone was in trouble. He’s seen Nami burst into tears at the thought of a kid losing his childhood and innocence because of the evils of the world. He’s seen impressive displays of personal strength and courage from Robin and Usopp, and he’s seen remarkable ingenuity and composure from Franky, Chopper, and Law. In fact, over the past month, Sanji is pretty sure he’s seen the best and worst of the people he’s currently eating breakfast with. They’ve also seen both sides of him. 

Sanji is not an easy person to love. He knows this down to the very bottom of his soul. He’s rude, and angry, and has a lot of self worth issues he’s puzzling out. He burns bright and hot, and sometimes he makes it deliberately difficult for people to get close to him. These guys… are not like that. Sanji doesn’t think he could ever willfully say no if Luffy and the others asked him for something important. And the really fucking weird thing is that they didn’t ask, didn’t have to go through some trial period until they were all friends. No, they skipped all of the normal steps that Sanji is used to. It’s like, meeting someone and decided to become friends with them, but the next time you see them they’re lying on your couch with no pants on. It’s weird, but it all works. Somehow. Maybe when he’s older Sanji will look back on all of this and try to pinpoint exactly how he got to this point in his life… but for now he’s hopelessly stuck where he is, and he wouldn’t change a thing. 

Well, maybe one or two things. He doesn’t like how Zoro does that thing where he leaves his shit everywhere. That’d be a nice change. 

Luffy called him ‘nakama.’ Even though he’s not entire sure what the word means, he’s fairly certain that he has found himself a member of a new family. He likes this family, and he sure as hell doesn’t want to lose anything he’s gained over the past couple of months. 

“Robin, did you mention that you were going into town today to pick a few things up?” Nami asks while eating the last bite of eggs on her plate. 

“I was planning on it. I need a few extra supplies for the garden. Why do you ask?” Robin replies as she takes slow sips from her coffee. 

“Can I join? There are a few articles I’d like to pick up from the library. Do you mind?”

“Of course not. I’d love the company.”

“Hey Robin, do you think you’d be able to pick up a newspaper and some new cables for me when you go?” Usopp interjects while in the process of pushing Luffy away from his unfinished pancakes.

“Hmm. I don’t mind of course,” Robin turns to face Usopp. “But wouldn’t it be easier if you just joined us? There’s plenty of room for you.”

“Eh, not that I wouldn’t love to, but I told Franky I’d help with some small repairs around the house.” Usopp gestures toward the aforementioned man, who smiles garishly. 

“Ah yes! We’ve got a big day ahead of us!” Franky’s blue hair bounces softly as he shoots finger guns across the table. 

At this point Sanji, finished with his own breakfast, excuses himself from the table and begins collecting dirty plates and glasses from the table. Everybody around the table offers up a multitude of praise, but Sanji shrugs it all off; it’s the least he can do after barging in so late last night. 

Soon Robin and Nami are about to leave, Usopp and Franky have joined up outside gesturing wildly to a few shutters in need of repair and Sanji has retired to the kitchen to finish the washing up. 

Sanji doesn’t hear Robin reentering the kitchen and her sudden appearance behind him makes him jump; he thought she had left already. 

“Sanji, when you finish here, I’d suggest taking a walk along the grounds. There are some lovely tangerine trees, you can see them from the window,” she points in what Sanji supposes is in the trees’ general direction to articulate her point. “It often proves the perfect spot to sit and think. I hope you have a good afternoon.” 

Robin exits the kitchen, just as quickly as she entered not giving Sanji a chance to respond to this seemingly random piece of advice. _What’s so special about some tangerine trees?_

Soon though, Sanji has finished with the dishes and he’s exhausted every possible task that is keeping him in the kitchen. He decides to head outside for a smoke, and then because Robin’s words are causing an itch in his brain, he decides to take a walk to find out exactly what’s behind the magic of some stupid trees. 

He discovers that it’s not the trees themselves that are so special, although they do prove to be spectacular specimens of their species. Instead, the shade from the trees provides a wonderful little spot to sit in and admire the outside world in a remote citrus scented cove. 

And apparently, Sanji is not the first person to seek out this shelter today. There was a reason Robin sent him in this general direction.

Sitting cross-legged, and shirtless is Zoro with his eyes closed and breathing deeply. 

He looks serene, and almost calm in a way that Sanji hasn’t seen since before the accident.

Sanji had been looking for Zoro, but he doesn’t want to disturb this scene. He turns around and starts to walk away. 

“I can smell you from here. You might as well sit down.”

Sanji doesn’t say anything, he only extinguishes his cigarette on the bottom of his shoes and goes to sit down beside Zoro. 

“Sorry I kicked you this morning.”

“Ah, I deserved it, I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

“This is really bothering you, isn’t it.” Sanji doesn’t ask. It’s a statement of fact. 

Zoro doesn’t respond, his silence is as telling as anything else. Marimo isn’t good with words, so Sanji’s had to adjust to listening in other ways. 

“So, you want to tell me exactly what we’re doing here?”

“I like the shade and the smell of the fruit.”

“Not here sea-weed brain. Here. The Sunny, or whatever.”

“You talked to Luffy this morning, didn’t you?” The corner of Zoro’s mouth twitches up in a half-smile. 

“Yeah so, let me rephrase that. You want to tell me why we’re not at home right now?” Sanji is trying very hard not to let his patience wear thin, but like everything else Zoro is making that a challenge. 

“No.”

“Excuse me? ‘No’ what?”

“No, I don’t WANT to tell you.” Zoro sighs deeply and opens his eyes to stare pointedly at Sanji. “I mean, I will. But I don’t want to.”

“Whenever you’re ready.” Sanji leans back on his hands and spreads his legs out. 

It takes a while before Zoro starts talking. After every few minutes of silence Sanji wants to interrupt, but he knows that will only make Zoro angrier and stall any kind of confession that might be forthcoming. Zoro doesn’t talk much, and Sanji is okay with that. They have their moments, and usually they can work things out between the two of them. 

Sanji flashes back to the night when Zoro dragged his own story out into the open. It hurts to be that emotionally vulnerable, and if Zoro isn’t used to that, if Zoro hasn’t been able to open up in such a long time, it will only hurt more to reopen those old wounds. 

So Sanji tries to be content with waiting until Zoro can work up the courage to bring up his past. 

“I- I don’t know where to start.”

“Well, the beginning is generally a good place.” Sanji absentmindedly flicks his lighter open and shut, trying to focus on anything else other than wrapping his arms around the other man in some show of solidarity and comfort. That definitely will not help anything. 

“Asshole, I know that. But do I start at the very beginning, or when the trouble started?”

Sanji doesn’t respond, letting Zoro puzzle that one out on his own.

“I don’t know how to talk about this.”

“ _Try_ ”

“I’m not like you Sanji, I can’t just open up about this.”

“That doesn’t mean that I get to be kept in the dark.”

“Well try ASKING. Maybe that’ll be easier.”

“Ok... what do the white flowers mean, and who are you afraid of?”

They both sit in silence as Sanji lets Zoro puzzle over the best way to reveal whatever the fuck is going on. 

“His name is Mihawk, and I’m not fucking afraid of him. He should be afraid of me.” Zoro mumbles, seemingly unsure of where to continue this train of thought. Oh well, he’ll get there eventually. And hopefully, when he gets there things will start making sense. 

“He… resents me. Generally the people that fuck with him know that a white flower means death. It was more of a message for me than for you. He’s saying ‘I got you.’”

“Shit. That’s kind of terrible.”

“Ha. Understatement of the year.”

Sanji leans back, perusing over what question to ask next. He’s stumped, what the hell is he supposed to do with that information? Evidently, Zoro wants to get into this as much as Sanji looks forward to quitting smoking. So this is going to be hard, and shitty, and definitely not fun. But what next?

“You’ve never actually paid any attention to my tattoo have you?” Zoro says without any prompting. 

“What tattoo?” Sanji has to wrap his brain around the sudden change in topic, leave it to Zoro to try to quickly and perhaps not-so-subtly change the topic. But Sanji isn’t haven’t any of that today. He doesn’t get to get out of giving an explanation. If Zoro was angry at Sanji before for not paying attention, then Sanji is going to damn well make sure that he gets all of the information out into the open. But shit, now Sanji is the one who is distracted.

“The one on your hip?” Sanji finally places the location of the tattoo; it’s small and easily missed unless you’re the type of person that thoroughly enjoys running your hands and mouth all over Zoro’s rippling muscles and toned body, which Sanji definitely is. 

Zoro only responds with a pointed look. 

“Yeah, it’s a…white…flower.”

Sanji sits in stunned silence. White flowers have been appearing on his doorstep. Sanji is dating Zoro. Zoro has a white flower tattoo. White flowers mean death. How did he not tie it all together before? Sanji still can’t seem to connect the dots, if anything more dots are appearing, but he thinks he can at least see what the picture is supposed to be. 

“Holy shit, Zoro. So…?”

“Yeah.”

“So your scar?”

“Him.”

“And then…?”

“Luffy got me out.”

“So now…”

“I’m here.”

“Is he the one who shot you?”

“Well, he’s the one who ordered it.”

Sanji sits up suddenly to backhand Zoro hard across the chest. The muscle-head barely flinches, it’s not like Sanji had kicked him after all. Sanji wasn’t trying to hurt him. Not really. 

Or well, not hurt him badly. 

“What the fuck? Thanks for sharing?” Sanji says in exasperation. 

“Shut up asshole. It’s not like I was trying to hide anything! I just, don’t like to talk about all of my shit. I’m over it.”

“You’re not fucking over it. That’s not how this kind of thing works.”

They sit in silence for a long time, watching the wind ripple the tall grass in front of them and clouds of indeterminate shape pass by overhead. Deciding that he’d rather do something rather than nothing, Sanji stands up and softly brushes the loose dirt and grass off of his pants. 

He doesn’t say anything, merely cocks his head toward the house signaling for Zoro to follow. Marimo might be an idiot, but he’s not dumb enough not to follow Sanji back up to the house. Or the Sunny. Whatever. Only Luffy could give a house a dumb name like that.

They enter through the kitchen Zoro heading straight for a tiny breakfast nook while Sanji stubs out a cigarette in front of the door. 

“Lunch is gonna be sandwiches. There won’t be any real food in this house until the ladies come back from town.” Sanji has his back turned to Zoro as he slices some bread and carefully aligns cold cuts, which _ew. gross_ , but he can feel the other man’s shrug and dismissal. It’s not like Sanji is making the first food Zoro has had all day, and it’s not like Sanji expected Zoro to be grateful or anything. Not at all. Nope. 

He balances two plates on his left arm and collects some fruit and a beer in his right hand as he carefully walks over to where Zoro is sitting. He gently places the food down and then sets the beer right in front of Zoro. At least he has the sense to look thankful for the booze. 

Zoro stares oddly at the cold bottle in his hand. His thumb traces the top of the label and catches a water droplet. 

“So. What happened to Kuina?” Sanji breaks the awkward silence and purposefully interrupts Zoro’s pensiveness. It does not do well to dwell on the unspoken, or something along those lines. 

“My sister… was three years older than me,” Zoro sighs. 

“Apparently, as a kid I caught the eye of Mihawk and he ended up taking me under his wing. I became his right hand/body guard. I don’t know. Years pass, I don’t see my family, I don’t have anything tying to any one place; all of a sudden I just looked up and I was important and had people that relied on me, but I had no idea who I was anymore, or what I was working for. I just didn’t get _the point_ of it.

“So I went home to visit Kuina. We moved around a lot as kids, but wherever Kuina was, that was home. Like I said, I looked up and didn’t know where I was anymore, and I hadn’t realized how long I had been gone for; I hadn’t seen her in 2 years.

“The last two weeks I spent with her are some of my happiest memories Sanji. That’s what I’m usually thinking about when I meditate or you catch me zoning out.”

Sanji can feel the anxiety and the despair rolling in waves off of Zoro, and he’s not even touching him. Shit. 

Maybe this was a bad idea. He doesn’t really need to know all of the specifics, he really just wanted to figure out why the hell Zoro had dragged him to this country club. 

But another part of Sanji is really proud that Zoro is able to finally get this off his chest. He knows the feeling, it’s painful but cathartic; like ripping a Band-Aid off of an old wound. Zoro’s voice is hesitant, but he doesn’t show any sign of stopping. Sanji can only wonder how the story will flow from Kuina to him, and hope that making Zoro talk will be worth it in the end.

“She died. I-I went out to grab some extra groceries for the house, and I come back to sirens everywhere and police yelling at me.”

Both of Zoro’s hands move up to press his palms into his eyes, and Sanji can hear his breathing become loud and erratic. Sanji looks across the table at Zoro, torn between whether he should be offering comfort or some tough love in the form of a slap to break up the sob story. Instead of seeking comfort, Zoro only wraps his hands into clenched fists. 

“He killed her. I just have never been able to figure out how. All the police could come up with was that she fell down the stairs. But HOW does someone fall down a set of steps they’ve walked down every day for 20 years and die? I know it was him. Somehow he thought that I was hesitating to continue working for him, and he took away the only good thing I had left in my life at the time. It’s my fault she’s dead. And when I went to confront him about him, when I went to tell him I was out, he tried to kill me. If I hadn’t pushed, if I hadn’t left, if I’d just stayed at home in the beginning like a good kid…” Zoro’s fists and eyes clench tightly closed.

“HEY!” Sanji throws a piece of bread at Zoro. “Stop with the pity party. It’s not your fault!”

“No you don’t get it. It IS all my fault. She’s dead because of me, and you’re in trouble now for the same reason. People die around me, Sanji. I’m a demon in people’s lives, just getting them in trouble over and over again!”

Sanji drops the other piece of bread he’d been planning on throwing at Zoro. It hurts to hear Zoro talk about himself like this. Sanji knows from firsthand experience that Zoro is not a demon. Zoro is…. Intimidating, sure. But that’s part of what drew Sanji to him in the first place. He has something for the bad boy ‘could bench press twice your weight’ look. 

But this is not Zoro’s fault. None of it is, and it makes Sanji feel a little guilty that all of this is getting dredged up. Then again, Zoro has yelled at him for not thinking about other people, for not asking the obvious questions. Well, this is Sanji asking what needs asked; even if it hurts the two of them in the process. What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, right? Except what if it almost kills you?

“That’s not true Zoro, and you know that. What about Luffy? Or Usopp? And the rest of them? Are you honestly telling me that they’re better off without you? You know as well as I do that’s not true.”

That came out a little more vicious that he had hoped, but Sanji notices that a large amount of tension has left Zoro, and he’s more sinking into table than looking like he’s trying to crack it in half.

“I’m sorry about your sister. But it’s not your fault. It’s this guy Mihawk.”

“I don’t need you to baby me.”

“If I’m babying you, which for the record I’m not, then it’s only because you need it because you’re being an idiot.”

“Can you not do the insulting compliments thing right now? I’m not in the fucking mood and I really don’t want to start fighting.”

“Don’t bitch then. Honestly though, if anything is your fault, it’s the fact that you made me sit in a tangerine grove for almost two hours at this random ass house. And I’m _cold_.” Sanji rolls his eyes and shivers. 

“You know, if you roll your eyes that hard they’ll stick like that.”

“You weren’t even looking at me, asshole!” Sanji’s reply definitely does not come out as a squeak. 

“Don’t need to, I could practically hear you doing it.”

“Asshole.”

“Idiot.”

Sanji moves to clear up the table. Somewhere in the middle of the discussion, the food disappeared, and judging by the shadows on the wall, Nami and Robin should be back shortly so he can start on dinner for the rest of the crew. 

“So lemme see if I’ve got this straight. I’m currently cooking dinner for a rag-tag group of delinquents all with ties to organized crime. Due to a major fuckup in your past, a leader of one of the previously mentioned organized crime groups is currently targeting me. Because the world is fucked up, and apparently there’s a lot of evil people. This asshole who thinks he even has the right to think about killing me, also killed your sister, and we’re going to take the motherfucker down. Right? Does that about cover it?”

“Uh...” Zoro studies the floor for a few moments before looking Sanji right in the eye. “Yeah? That sounds fucking awful doesn’t it?”

“Well, duh. But have you seen your face? That’s probably worse.”

Sanji ducks as a towel flies towards his face. 

“So how do we go about taking down this Mihawk guy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoo. We're over 50,000 words! I never thought I'd get here, this is so monumental. 
> 
> I'm sorry for the delay. The last chapter took me a while, and I've been so busy. But here's to more! Hopefully this chapter cleared up... like everything... and it all makes sense. Comments and critique is always appreciated -x
> 
> p.s there's also some Law post-dressrosa angst that i posted recently, so if that's your thing i'd love if you checked it out.


	18. Fools Rush In

The plan was supposed to be simple. The plan was supposed to go off without a hitch. The plan was supposed to be a fucking _plan._

Late on their second night at the Sunny Zoro finally spilled all of the details about his past, and Mihawk, and how he’d found out from Luffy that it was Mihawk’s guys who had shot him. While everybody seemed a little shocked at the sudden turn of events, none of them seemed truly surprised over what Zoro had gotten into. 

They’d sat down and _talked_ about everything much to Zoro’s disdain and Sanji’s frustration. Sanji already felt guilty about making Zoro tell the whole story, he felt twice as bad about Zoro having to tell the story twice. Thankfully the others weren’t quite as…pushy… as Sanji had been, so Zoro didn’t relive any specific horror twice. 

They’d spent the next four days trying to come up with a plan on how to literally take Zoro and Sanji off Mihawk’s hitlist. Several different plans were scraped, but one thing remained common: they were going to have to take out Mihawk’s yakuza organization from the inside. 

It wasn’t all going to be quick, and it certainly wasn’t supposed to be easy; nothing that’s ever worthwhile is. But it needed to be thorough, and it needed to be something that was going to let Sanji, Zoro and the rest of them be home free. 

“The problem with Yakuza is that they believe they’re a necessary evil,” Robin had explained during a particularly fruitful planning meeting. “They’re so sure of their role and their place in society that you can’t convince them that they’re not needed, nor can you pit them against another group since they’re uniquely built to be self-sufficient and to survive without a leader. The only way to break yakuza is to break them down from the inside.”

So a plan was concocted in which two high-ranking bosses of Mihawk’s yakuza would be taken down, allowing the crew to deal a final heavy blow at headquarters. 

Simple. 

Sanji hadn’t had any particular role in the planning sessions; after all he didn’t have any idea about gang hierarchies and the like. He’s no ‘avenging bride.’ He just made sure to keep everybody fed and happy and if he happened to notice any particular flaws in a plan then he’d make sure the idiot who had invented the idea realized it. Unless it was Robin or Nami, then he just graciously pointed out that they could come up with a much better idea. 

The result of the last planning meeting was why Sanji found himself sitting in the back of a car in full black tie attire wearing, of all things, a mask. 

“Why am I wearing a mask again?”

“It’s a masquerade party, that you have graciously been invited to as an investor in the new medical center. Remember?” Zoro is sitting next to him, fumbling with a microphone headpiece. 

“Shut up. I’m not stupid enough to forget the fucking plan… I just don’t understand why it had to be a masquerade of all things! I hate masks.”

“You hide half of your face, all of the time. What makes wearing a mask any different?”

“You know, I like you better when you’re passed out and can’t talk.”

“Well Cook, we can’t always get what we want. For example, I’m stuck with you.” Zoro shrugs one shoulder in contempt; a move that earns him a slap across the top of his head. 

“Son of a Bitch, Sanji! I almost broke this,” Zoro gestures emptily with the headset in his hands

“Give it here butterfingers. You’ll break it anyway with the way you’re manhandling it.”

“I’ve never gotten any complaints about the way I ‘manhandle’ things.”

“You think I’m gonna complain in a compromising position like that?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Zoro throws a sideways smirk at Sanji, his face aligning oddly with the fully healed scar across his eye. Sanji will never in a million years admit it, but the scar is really fucking hot. 

Sanji presses the headpiece into his ear, and then ruffles his hair to hide it. He gently ties his mask on, and adjusts his tie. 

“You’re not going to flake out right?” Zoro hesitates to ask, as he straightens Sanji’s jacket in an oddly domestic action. 

“As if I’m ever anything other than calm and composed.”

“I can think of at least 10 instances where you have been anything BUT calm and composed.”

“You’re a dirty pervert, you know that right?”

“You’re the one whose brain went straight to the gutter.”

Sanji doesn’t respond, he only rolls his eyes and scoffs at the very idea of being in the gutter. He’s got other things to worry about tonight.

He blows a flirty kiss at Zoro as he steps out of the car. Zoro throws a middle finger back. Sanji mimes pocketing the gesture. 

As he closes, ok slams, the car door shut, he raises his eyes to meet Robin dressed in an exquisite, form fitting purple evening gown. Subtle beading in the bodice gives a general sparkling effect whenever she moves, and flowers sprout from the illusion neckline. The flower motif continues through the wiry columbina mask she has donned. She looks magical. 

“Ah Robin! You look absolutely magnificent! How did I ever earn the pleasure of laying eyes upon such a radiant goddess? Surely I’m not worthy of your beauty?”

“Can it, lover boy. You’re definitely not worth it, yadda yadda. You cool with the plan tonight bro?” Franky appears somehow out of nowhere behind Sanji, a feat made only more impressive by his sheer physicality. What Franky lacks in grace and charm is made up in strength and size. Zoro may be the kind of guy you definitely don’t want to meet down a dark street, but Franky looks like the kind of guy you wouldn’t get too close to in the middle of the day on the most crowded sidewalk in the world. He’s an absolute teddy bear personality wise, but at least he looks threatening. 

“Shut it Franky.” Sanji twists the earpiece into his ear, also simultaneously managing to give Franky a sneeringly glaring look. “Look, I don’t know why you’re all freaking out, I’ve got the easiest part of the whole damn thing. All I have to do is sit and look pretty with this angel on my arm. It’s fine, I’ve got it.”

Seriously. This plan is so easy he could manage it in his sleep. He’s to eat, drink, and make merry at this stupid party and cause a drunken scene at the end allowing Robin to bug the security system of the mansion. Easy peasy pudding and pie. 

_It’s just another night on the town. There’s nothing special whatsoever about stepping foot into this house. Nothing will go wrong because there’s no earthly way to screw this up. I’m the distraction, and the distraction never gets in trouble…_

“Come on pervert cook, get a move on or you’ll be late to the party,” Zoro’s voice bursts loudly and clearly into Sanji’s ear. 

“Get lost marimo!”

“Uh, Sanji, try not to talk to us out loud like that. That would be bad.” Usopp’s voice cuts in over the speaker now. 

_Goddammit, why do I have to be taking suggestions from these idiots?_

“Robin, my dear, may I have the pleasure of escorting you to this wonderful party?”

“Of course Sanji, let us go forth!” Robin takes Sanji’s offered arm and together they move up the walkway leading to the mansion. 

And is mansion ever the right word for this house. 

It’s extravagant. Nauseatingly dripping with wealth and finery. Sanji can smell the snobbery eking from the people around him as they enter the house. 

As they enter the parlor, Robin produces two invitations with dripping gold lettering upon the prompting of the doorman. Dear god, there is a doorman. 

“Ah, yes, Ms. Nico and Mr. Noir. Thank you for joining us tonight. Guests are gathering in the ballroom before our host, Ms. Ghast, begins the evening with a toast.”

Sanji has never been in the vicinity of so much money at one time. The very air itself seems stifled with the amount of wealth being carried. Everywhere he turns a pair of diamonds catch his eye, with every new person he introduces himself to the more jewels he feasts his eyes on. 

He feels small, and at the same time, in his element. It’s not that Sanji is poor, because he’s definitely not, only that he doesn’t ever get to show off his penchant for things of a finer taste. With his upbringing, he’s more used to living within his means. Living with a certain man with absolutely no taste to speak of certainly doesn’t help matters. Here, here is where he could belong. If he wasn’t disgusted by the blatant air of superiority he’s currently choking on. 

“It’s important to look like you are excited to be here, Sanji,” Robin mutters off to his side, smiling while speaking.

“Sorry Robin, it just took me a moment to get used to the extravagance of it all. Come, let’s move closer to the front to better see what our host looks like this evening.”

No sooner have the words left his mouth than the host herself walks down the staircase to arrive grandly on the landing. Although her dress, a black Victorian gown with red accents, and her hair, bright pink, is enough to draw one’s attention, she possesses a powerful personality that immediately causes silence to fall in the ballroom. 

“Welcome! Thank you all for joining us tonight as we raise funds to complete the new Thriller Bark Medical Center in the downtown district. I know we are all so excited about the multiple opportunities this partnership offers us, so I encourage you all to dig deep in your pockets tonight to help make the dreams of sick, cute, children come true! Together we can stand at the forefront of medical discoveries. So please, enjoy tonight!”

The party-goers break away from the stairwell and begin to spread themselves out amongst the ballroom. Somewhere in a corner, a jazz band sets up and light music begins to envelop the room. 

“Robin, my dear, a dance?” Sanji stretches his hand out to Robin beside him. 

Together they move out to the center of the ballroom and join a single other couple in dancing. 

It’s a simple two-step dance, leaving Robin and Sanji ample opportunity to survey the crowd around them. 

“So, Sanji. Tell me about your relationship with Mr. Zoro.”

“The perpetual thorn in my side? What about him?”

“You say that, but you don’t actually mean it. Why is that?”

“Robin, you’ve met Zoro right?” Sanji sighs, spinning Robin around gracefully, his hands moving across Robin’s allowing him the time to think. “He’s an impossible human. He’s rude, rather uncultured, and as I’m sure you’ve noticed, exceptionally bad about sharing things.”

“Again,” this time Robin pulls away from Sanji into a spin before turning to Sanji with her back to him, “you talk as if you absolutely can’t stand the man. But you wouldn’t be here if that was true.”

“I can’t stand him.”

Robin only gives Sanji a meaningful look, as if to say ‘go on.’

“There’s something about us. We fight, but never actually mean anything that we say. Somehow the two of us just fit together really well. I think it’s because we understand each other, and he keeps me grounded.” Sanji sidesteps smoothly behind Robin as she twists in his arms. 

“It’s been like that since day one: we both get such a mutual kick out of annoying the shit out of the other that it works really well. Then when I come home, there’s nothing that isn’t said between us, there’s no pressure to do anything, there’s no second guessing what I feel…” Sanji trails off. 

He... said a lot more than he meant to. So much so, that he’s almost stopped dancing and he and Robin are only swaying back and forth on the dance floor. 

It’s true of course, every word. Sanji doesn’t ever talk about it, there’s no need for mushy chick-flick moments with Zoro. They’re that couple that fight constantly around other people (and when they’re alone together as well), but are incredibly sappy in private. And it works. It’s the best thing Sanji has ever had in his life, and he’s terrified that with this entire situation he is getting closer and closer to losing it. 

_“Well, not that this isn’t adorable, but incoming at your 8 ‘o clock. “_ Zoro’s voice crackles over Sanji’s ear piece. 

Damn, he forgot he was wearing that. And that Zoro and Usopp could hear everything that he said. _Ok, note to self: stop saying shit like that aloud._

_”Zoro stop stealing the mic! Move over! Ok, uh Sanji his name is Absolom. He’s in cahoots with Perona, but we’re not 100% sure of his connection. Just don’t piss him off, and don’t out yourself”_

“Cahoots? Seriously?” Sanji sighs inwardly, he doesn’t want to have to deal with people tonight. 

But there isn’t any time to reply. The song is quickly ending and Sanji can see someone approaching him from the corner of his eye. He twirls Robin around once more and ends with a dip on the last beat. He gently pulls Robin up, places a soft kiss against her hand, and meets her gaze with an eye roll as someone coughs behind him. 

“Ms. Nico. You look radiant tonight, as per usual.” The man standing behind Sanji is surprisingly tall and stocky, wearing a floor length black coat. Most startlingly is the half lion mask on his face, giving him the impression of a constant grin. 

“Ah, good evening. It’s Absolom, yes?”

“You flatter me with youe memory. And who is your guest? I’m not sure I’ve even seen him at one of our banquets before.

“This is Mr. Sanji Noir. He’s a close friend of mine.” There’s an implied threat behind Robin’s cool tone. Sanji sometimes forgets how powerful Robin actually is, but when he remembers, he’s always glad they are on the same side. Here, Robin is claiming her authority—don’t fuck with her friends. 

“How wonderful of you to join us,” Absolom’s tone of voice does not match his words. He sounds as best, guarded. At worst, suspicious. “Tell me, how did you find out about the charity? Aside from Ms. Nico, of course.”

In his ear, he can hear Zoro and Usopp scrambling around trying to come up with a cover for his presence. But Sanji isn’t worried; he doesn’t have a cover because he doesn’t need one. 

“Perhaps you’ve heard of the restaurant I own? The Baratie downtown?”

“You own The Baratie? That’s only the highest rated restaurant in the area. ” Sanji enjoys seeing Absolom’s jaw drop slightly before the man gains control on his expression. Zoro and Usopp aren’t making any noise anymore.

“I do, and another small catering shop. What can I say, someone has to be the best in town. I’m not usually there because I travel so much, and have another business to grow. I must say, it’s wonderful to finally be able to show up at one of these events.”

Absolom still doesn’t seem to have recovered from his introduction to Sanji, his mouth opens and closes in confusion, with no words coming out. Sanji supposes that his response isn’t entirely unusual... very few people know that Sanji is connected with the Baratie at all, Zoro found out by accident but was sworn to secrecy by Sanji’s lips against his mouth. Sanji pauses to let the other man regain his composure.

The original owner Zeff, the one who had saved Sanji as a kid, had raised him as his own son. He was the one who taught Sanji how to cook, who shaped him in the man and chef he is today. When he died, it had felt like the end of the world for Sanji; he didn’t know how to deal with Zeff’s absence. Zeff had ended up leaving the entirety of The Baratie to Sanji, but only under the strict orders that Sanji leave and follow his own dreams. So yes, Sanji does own the restaurant, but he doesn’t work there anymore. Sanji had given the Sous Chefs Patty, Carne, and a few other loyal employees shares to the restaurant, letting them handle the day to day running of the restaurant. 

The man with the lion mask is still apparently shocked, and Sanji has a feeling that the conversation isn’t going to be moving forward any more. 

“Let me know if you ever need a table, I know how difficult it can be getting a spot there.” 

Sanji quickly, and perhaps rudely, bids Absolom a good night and offers Robin his arm as they leave their present company. 

“I’m really not sure what to think about that,” Sanji whispers conspiratorially to Robin. 

“You did fine. Mentioning The Baratie was a good move.” Sanji will never cease to be amazed at the level of Robin’s intellect. He doesn’t know where she gets her intellect, and frankly he doesn’t want to, but he cannot deny that it’s impossible to keep a secret from her. 

_“Wait seriously?! The Baratie? Sanji, what? How?”_ Usopp’s confused voice startles Sanji as he once again forgets about the headset he’s wearing. 

_”I’ll tell you about it later_ ,” Zoro’s voice cuts over next. 

“However, with the way the night is progressing, I think now would be a good time to start moving the plan forward.”

Sanji agrees. He really doesn’t want to have to stay at the party one second longer than necessary, and the interaction with Absolom made him very uneasy. Something is off about the entire party; beyond the whole Yakuza front of course. 

He bids Robin farewell as she moves off to do whatever her part of the plan entails, and Sanji moves his way over to the bar. If he’s going to have to act like a drunken idiot, it’s probably easiest to get a head start on being drunk. He quickly downs two measures of whiskey, reveling in the way the liquid burns down his throat and warms his stomach. 

Taking a deep breath for courage, he begins to sway awkwardly through the crowd. He bumps shoulders where he can, offers outrageous compliments to every woman he sees, and even manages to stumble into a table and spill several drinks. _Nicely done_ , he thinks. 

People are noticing him, that’s for sure. But no one has made a move to stop him, and it seems that he hasn’t officially disrupted the party enough to draw the attention he’s looking for. He decides to most past the scope of the party and explore the rest of the house. If he wasn’t being watched before, he certainly will be soon. 

_“Hey Sanji, Robin’s almost done planting the bugs, we just need a few more minutes of distraction.”_ Usopp’s nervous voice comes clear through Sanji’s headpiece. That’s a relief at least. Sanji isn’t sure how much longer he can act like a drunken idiot and still be convincing. 

He moves down an empty hallway, and tries a door at random. Locked of course, he really didn’t expect anything else. He moves down another hallway, this time a little closer to the party, somebody should notice him now. 

As he moves to open about door, he’s stopped when somebody grabs his arm. Sanji looks up through his bangs, still pretending to be blissfully drunk, and realizes that it’s Absolom who has stopped him. 

“What are you doing here?” Absolom’s genial voice from before is gone, replaced by a much harsher tone. 

“Oh uh, looking for the bathroom!” Sanji slurs brightly. 

“Sure you are.” Absolom tugs harshly on Sanji’s arm, throwing him off balance. Sanji looks up to see an arm raised above him, and then everything goes black. 

****

 

The bag is pulled roughly over Sanji’s head and he squeezes his eyes tight to block the sudden bright light assaulting him. He can hear several people moving around him, but moving where he’s not sure. As he shifts his head, trying to bring himself to full consciousness, he feels a rough pull from his arms behind him keeping him still. His arms are tied tightly behind him to the chair he’s sitting in, but amazingly his legs are free. Things maybe aren’t as bad as they seem. Well, no. He’s tied to a chair with no idea how he got there. Things are pretty bad. 

“Mr. Noir. Sanji. Are you with us now?” A saccharine sweet voice whispers unexpectedly in Sanji’s ear, startling him. He blinks slowly, and finds that the light isn’t as painfully harsh as it was before. He looks slowly around the room. There are two men in front of him, and beside him is the woman in the large black and red gown from earlier in the night. The host of the evening: Perona Ghast. 

“Ah there we are. Hello there Sanji, how you feeling cutie?” She chuckles morbidly, her grating laugh hitting every single one of Sanji’s nerves. 

“Ah well, you know. I’ve been better.” Sanji’s mouth moves of it’s own accord, going to his default state – bold and rude. His brash attitude earns him a slap across the face and his skin is scratched raw as one of Perona’s rings rakes his face. 

“My, you have a smart mouth. Well, let’s get down to business. What are you doing here?” Perona moves to stand directly in front of him. 

“I was invited.” Another slap across his face, but this time much harder. Sanji’s head swings to the side, and he can feel the blood rushing to his face. He’ll probably have a mark. 

“We both know that’s bullshit. Why are you here?”

“I felt like being suffocated in wealth tonight.” This time instead of a slap, it’s a fist that grazes his face. His lip splits from the force of the blow. 

“Mr. Sanji. I don’t like making messes,” as if to prove her point Perona carefully wipes her hand with a handkerchief. “You can make this very easy on yourself. Just tell me what I want to hear.” 

She squats down to eye level with Sanji, her eyes completely devoid of any emotion. 

“Now. Where’s Roronoa?”

“Bite me.”

Perona screams in frustration, but doesn’t hit Sanji. Instead she pushes him causing the chair to tip backwards. Unable to stop himself from falling, Sanji hits the floor hard. When his skull connects with the tile underneath him, his eyes white out and his ears start ringing terribly. He’s definitely concussed. 

“Give it to him.” He barely hears the order, but suddenly someone is kneeling over him, tearing the sleeve of his shirt. He feels, rather than sees, the needle go in; a sharp pinching sensation and then a burning wave moves down his arm. He groans in pain. 

His chair is tipped back up, too quickly for his taste, and his head and stomach complain at the sudden change in position. 

Nobody says anything to him now, and he can see Perona and the other two men talking to each other in a corner. 

Sanji tries to take stock of his injuries. He’s been hit in the face a few times, that’s not a problem. He’s more worried about having hit his head twice, once apparently to get him into the chair, and the second time while he’s been strapped in it. However, he is most concerned about the rope around his wrists. His bonds have not been tied with great care, and it’s uncomfortably tight. So tight, that Sanji can feel the rope digging into his wrists, and he gets the feeling that his fingers will be going numb shortly. That’s definitely not good. There’s a reason he doesn’t fight with his hands, and he will be seriously pissed off if something were to happen tonight. 

While he’s sitting in the chair, trying to figure out exactly where he is and how he got there, a sudden wave of panic washes over him. He can feel his heart rate increase exponentially, until it feels like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest. The muscles in his legs start shaking uncontrollably, and his breath starts coming unevenly and quickly. His blood is boiling, and he feels a very sudden and real need to crawl out of his skin. His vision doubles and then goes shockingly clear, like he’s changed the television channel to High Definition. 

“What? What did you do to me? What’s going on?” He tries to say, but the sentence comes out in mumbled and slurred. His mouth isn’t working right, his tongue is heavy, his throat suddenly and achingly dry. 

“You’ve just been given an alarmingly high dose of adrenaline, and few other favorite drugs of mine. You should be feeling like you’re having a panic attack. Within 5 minutes you’ll begin to hallucinate. Five minutes after that you’ll crash and be faced with feelings of utter hopelessness. 10 minutes after that, your heart will give out. This is not a fun process.”

Sanji hears everything like he’s underwater. His heartbeat is too loud, roaring in his ears. But the message is clear. He’s fucked. 

“Now. I have the antidote here,” Perona waves a clear bottle in her hand to demonstrate, laughing all the while. “Tell me what I want to hear, and you will not be dying tonight.”

Sanji doesn’t respond, because he doesn’t think he physically can. His throat is constricted, and he can’t catch his breath. He manages to nod in understanding. Getting the antidote sounds like a great idea. 

But he won’t give up the crew. 

“Now. Is Roronoa here?”

Sanji gasps deeply managing to draw in a deep breath. 

“I’m…not going to tell… you anything,” he manages to stumble out. 

One of the men in the corner moves and if to hit Sanji again. He doesn’t let that happen. 

He’s not sure where the strength comes from, only that one minute he’s gasping for breath, blood rushing uncontrollably to his head, and the next minute, his eyes are open and he knows exactly what he needs to do. He’s trapped, he’s not in a good spot, and there’s only one thing on his mind: escape. 

As the man comes closer to him, he’s wearing some stupid blue and white striped sports jacket, Sanji takes full advantage of his free legs and kicks powerfully into the shin in front of him. Man #1 goes down hard, and Sanji brings his other leg up to land a forceful kick to the side of his head. 

With one guard out of the way Sanji stands up, unsure of why he didn’t do that in the first place. It really was a dumb idea to leave his legs free. 

The second guard rushes him, this time dressed in a suit; he must have been watching Sanji at the party the entire time. Sanji lands a powerful kick to the man’s chest, pushing him backward into the wall of the small room they are in. He turns around and throws his weight and the back of the chair into the chest of Man #2. As he does so, he can see Man #1 trying to drag himself up off the floor. Sanji is not having that. 

He jumps high, and throws himself into a front flip. The back of the chair, and by extension him, land forcefully against Man #1, so hard that the chair shatters into pieces effectively freeing Sanji’s hands. Man #2 tries to rush Sanji, but now fueled with rage he aims several repeated kicks at the guy’s head. 

He misses. Somehow. He was so sure he’d kicked the guy. But Man #2 only stares in wonder at the space beside him, and then plasters a stupid sneer on his face. 

“Looks like we’ve reached the second stage of the drug.”

Sanji backs up slightly, and swings his leg in a wide circle towards the man. He manages to land a hit, but not where he wanted to. Somehow the guy had jumped about 3 feet to his right. 

He looks over to where Perona is standing in a corner of the room. Somehow there’s three little ghosts floating over her head. That... definitely can’t be real. That’s probably a side effect of whatever he’s hopped up on right now. 

He takes a threatening step towards her, and sees how he jaw thrusts up into the air. She’s not armed, but Sanji doesn’t doubt that there’s a lot of fight in her. But he can’t do it. Suddenly in the corner of the room, he sees his mother getting slapped around like when he was a child. He just… couldn’t possibly hurt a woman. 

He turns around slowly, almost drunkenly. When… when did it become a struggle to stand up? There are three Man #1’s in the room now, and Sanji does not remember when that happened. Was he hallucinating? Or did backup arrive? 

Before he can come to a solid conclusion, there are three short, sharp blasts from behind him. The glass from a tiny egress window near the ceiling shatters, and suddenly Man #1, Man #2, and Perona all go down with a big green splotch of paint on their forehead. It’s gotta be Usopp. Usopp is here to help, _and where Usopp is…_

Zoro suddenly appears, standing in the spot where Sanji was pretty sure the door used to be. But he’s really not sure of anything anymore. Zoro is carrying three swords, one in each hand and one in his mouth. That’s… too strange to be real. He’s definitely hallucinating. 

“You look stupid. Who the hell carries a sword in their mouth?” 

“Come on cook! We’re leaving!”

“Wait! Zoro no.” Sanji unexpectedly falls to his knees, chest going tight with the sudden feeling of despair. “I can’t leave… this won’t work.” Sanji slurs out the words before falling to his knees as darkness overtakes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for tuning in kids, I appreciate you sticking with this! As always, comments motivate me to keep hacking away at this beast. I hope everything in this chapter as well as all of the action is easy to visualize and understand. Peace, love, and snowflakes to you and yours -x


	19. Highwire

Zoro is hunched over on the bed, Sanji’s head on his leg. 

It wasn’t ever supposed to be like this. 

He wasn’t supposed to drag Sanji into all of this. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love like this. He wasn’t supposed to be the one who let everyone else get hurt. He didn’t want people involved in his shit for a reason. 

So now he’s hunched over Sanji’s bruised face, completely shaken, and praying that Sanji is all right. He softly caresses the black bruise forming around Sanji’s closed eyes, and gently runs his fingers along the red rope burn around the cooks wrists. Zoro knows Sanji well enough that through all of his injuries it’s the one around his wrists that will make him the angriest. 

He doesn’t know what Perona did to Sanji, except that it was bad. Chopper had said that his heart almost stopped, and if that wasn’t bad enough, he hasn’t woken up yet. 

Zoro isn’t entirely sure what happened. One moment, Sanji had been walking around as the perfect (and most physically distracting) decoy ever. Then Robin had signaled she was finished with her job, and Sanji’s microphone had squealed in such a horrific way they could only assume it had been broken. 

It had taken them 15 minutes to find him in the basement of the mansion, and another 10 to actually get to the room. Zoro can’t even imagine what would have happened if they hadn’t gotten there when they did. 

Admittedly, Sanji was able to hold up his own end of the fight. He’d managed to take down pretty much everybody before Usopp and Zoro arrived. But that’s not the point. The point is that Sanji shouldn’t have had to fight like that. 

Perona had paid for it. That fact at least kept Zoro sane (ok, as sane as he could be) through the end of this mess. She was alive, but slightly less than whole. Zoro didn’t want to hurt her too badly, after all they’d been friends in the past. Perona had worked for Mihawk long before Zoro came around, and she’d been the one to show him the ropes (he’d been her shadow for a year). They had a history. 

He kept her alive for one main reason. He wants Mihawk to know he was coming for revenge and retribution. He wants Mihawk to know the extent of the damage and wreckage Zoro had to suffer for years. He wants Mihawk to be prepared for what’s next. Perona was the perfect tool for that. Of course, she was only the first obstacle, there’s one more man to deal with before Zoro can face Mihawk. He’s sure that the message he sent will result in increased security and hyper vigilance on the entire organizations part, but honestly he wants the challenge. He wants to prove he’s not the scared little boy he was after Kuina died. He needs to prove that what didn’t kill him only made him stronger. 

On the subject of strength, Zoro is torn. He was raised to believe that the strong were the people in the world who win, and they are the people who make things happen. The strong survive, and the victors have control over history. It’s why Zoro trains so hard, it’s why he’s dedicated himself to strength and control throughout his life. It’s why he was so honored to be working for Mihawk once upon a time. Zoro knows that Sanji is strong (scary strong in fact, and not just physically). And because of that, Sanji deserves the opportunity to fight for what he wants. Sanji is more than capable, and Zoro will never hold someone like Sanji back. 

And yet… Zoro will do anything to protect those he loves. He would rather die than have someone else die for him. He won’t let it get to that point. Even if he alienates Sanji, even if Sanji hates him for it, he doesn’t want Sanji to put himself in danger again. 

He’ll figure out what to do tomorrow. Probably. Maybe. 

For now though, he’s the host of a pity party for one, and he contents himself with running his hands though Sanji’s achingly soft, golden hair. 

A few hours and short nap later, Zoro feels Sanji beginning to stir. Sanji’s eyebrows draw close together in a frown and then quickly relax as a quiet pained gasp leaves his mouth. 

“Shhh. Morning dartboard brow. How do you feel?” Zoro adjusts to make Sanji more comfortable. 

“Ugh. We have got to stop meeting like this.” 

“Meeting like how?”

“One of us passed out because we’re both idiots.”

Zoro chuckles knowingly. Sanji does have a point. 

“My head hurts. What happened?” Sanji slowly raises himself up to a half sitting position. 

“What do you remember?” 

Sanji shoots Zoro an exasperated look and raises his hand to the back of his head, rubbing in a nervous gesture to try and bring forth obscured memories. Sanji winces slightly as his hand ghosts where he’d hit the floor while tied to a chair. Zoro winces in sympathy. 

“I remember the party. I remember waking up tied to a chair. And then I remember that they… they drugged me with something? I think? How did I get out of there?” 

Zoro looks down feeling slightly guilty. Chopper had said that memory impairment may have been a side effect of the drug. It’s just stupid that Sanji got drugged in the first place. 

“Yeah. Perona gave you this weird drug that basically fucked with your nervous system, so I guess it’s not too strange that you don’t remember everything. Damn shame though, because you were handling everything pretty well for yourself in there.”

“I always handle myself marimo. It’s what I’m really, really good at.”

“I know. And I’m really glad that’s true.” Zoro sighs and leans back against the bed. Thank god that Sanji can handle himself. 

“What?” Sanji side-eyes Zoro with a confused look on his face. 

“Nah. It’s nothing.” The honest, hand to god truth. Well… maybe not. But if there is one thing to be thankful for, at least Sanji CAN handle himself. All those weeks ago, when Nami had yelled at him about this entire situation, she’d been right. Sanji knew how to fight, and now he seemed to want to help in the fight. 

“Obviously it’s something. Tell me.”

“It’s stupid. I just… I didn’t think I could do this with you, because it was unfair to drag you into everything. I didn’t want you to fight, because it wasn’t your fight in the first place,” Zoro sighs, and rubs his eyes tiredly. “But now, I don’t think I could be doing this without you.”

Zoro doesn’t see Sanji sit up, but he feels it. And he feels the light, calloused hands grab his own. As he opens his eyes he sees Sanji’s bruised face floating directly above his. 

“Zoro. Don’t you dare think, even for a second, that I would be doing this unless I wanted to. You know me better than that. I don’t ever run from a fight. Listen to me. I love you. And I will do whatever it takes to make sure that things aren’t fucked up between us, involving us… whatever. Ok? I am going to fight for THIS. Because this is what matters; not the crew, not Mihawk, just me and you right here on this bed.”

Zoro is stunned. He’d been expecting Sanji to be angry, confused, even hurt. He’d been the one to bringing the walls crashing down, he’d been the one that had started this entire feud… and he’d also been the one who couldn’t walk away. It wasn’t supposed to be Sanji calming all of his fears. 

“You… you love me?” Zoro has nothing else left to say. He feels his face growing warm with what he knows is a embarrassing blush. 

Sanji flops back onto the bed with a dull thud. 

“HA. No. I hate you. I hate you so much, you have no idea. You get on every single one of my nerves. God, sometimes it’s not even anything you do, it’s like the very idea of you taking up space irritates me. And you look so stupid sometimes! It’s like all of your brainpower went to building muscle instead and you just don’t _think_ about really simple things like what clothes are appropriate and how to fucking change the toilet paper roll! I hate how you embarrass me and how you don’t care about the little things! I hate how you seem so entitled sometimes, and how every now and then you come home and you flop on the couch and you close me out. I hate that you leave your shit everywhere and you don’t tell me important things, and I hate that you got yourself shot. I hate you so much that every single goddamn time I look at you my chest does this weird constricting thing to where I can’t breathe and I feel like my chest is this close to exploding. And that’s... that's how I know that I love you.” 

Zoro has nothing else left to say. So he does what he does second-best: he kisses Sanji. 

He moves from his place on the bed and softly grasps Sanji’s head in his hands, running the soft blonde tendrils of hair through his fingers. He firmly presses his lips against Sanji’s, eyes closed tight in love, desperation, and relief. He slowly moves his lips against the other’s savoring the cool taste, the slightly ragged feel from chapped lips, and the soft gasps coming from Sanji’s mouth. Zoro can’t help but sigh softly, and run his tongue against Sanji’s bottom lip. He feels a matching tongue move to meet his own, and Zoro gladly deepens the kiss. Zoro moves his left hand down to Sanji’s hip, softly caressing it, and truly enjoying the low hum the touch brings forth. 

Zoro moves again, this time to lift his legs so that he ends up straddling Sanji on the bed, and still he never lets his lips leave the other man’s. This kiss, this is the part where he tries to show Sanji exactly what he’s feeling. This is the part where he breaks down in tears, laughter and relief. This is where he falls apart in Sanji’s arms and cries about how every time he catches Sanji’s eyes he has to calm himself down (because how can someone with a past like Zoro’s ever be so lucky in love?).

But here he is. Here Sanji is, and together they make up two idiots in love. 

“Mmh. Zoro?” Sanji is the first to break the kiss, though his eyes are still closed and his mouth ghosts the words over Zoro’s lips. 

Zoro presses his forehead against Sanji’s in response. 

“My head really hurts,” Sanji says with a laugh causing his shoulders to vibrate softly under Zoro. 

Zoro laughs softly, and then rolls over so that he’s parallel to Sanji’s body. It’s ok. They have time.

“But really. My head hurts. Bring me some medicine or something,” Sanji demands from his side of the bed. Zoro’s ok with it because if Sanji is whining, it only means that he’s alive. And hopefully for as long as Sanji’s alive Zoro will love him. 

“Want to ask a little nicer? Or you know, ask at all?” Even though Zoro is complaining, he still gets up from the bed, gently so as not to shake Sanji. 

“No.”

Zoro only scoffs as he makes his way out of the bedroom. Sanji stops him just as he’s about to close the door. 

“Hey. I love you marimo.”

“I love you too Cook.”

Zoro heads to the kitchen with his mind stuck on the way Sanji’s ears pinked up when he said ‘I love you too.’ It’s a surprisingly satisfactory feeling, like just for a second the world stopped spinning so goddamn fast and just for that moment, everything seems right in the world. It’s a fleeting moment but fulfilling. Zoro marvels at the way Sanji made his thoughts go from utter desperation to complete devotion. 

“Oh hey Zoro, is Sanji awake?” Chopper is hanging out in the kitchen, a surprisingly thick book propped open in front of him. Zoro eyes the way Chopper’s feet swing underneath his chair, and feels the guilt settle into him for bringing a kid into everything. But Chopper isn’t a kid anymore, not with everything they’ve been through. And the crew (especially Law and Zoro) are really the only family Chopper has left. It’s a delicate balance of trouble and security; Zoro only fears that he’s losing sight of where the line is drawn. 

“Yeah. The miserable bastard woke up a while ago. He doesn’t seem to remember a lot of what happened.”

Chopper’s nose squints in the way that tells Zoro he’s already deep in thought. 

“That’s probably for the best. The brain has a really good way of dealing with trauma. I don’t know exactly what was in that serum that was administered, except that it wasn’t great, but it may have had some effects on short-term memory. Did he say anything else?”

“He’s complaining about a headache. I came down to grab some water and a snack. Unless you have any good pain meds?” Zoro heads to the cupboards in the kitchen to fetch a glass and a loaf of bread. He doesn’t want to attempt to cook anything, if only because he knows that Sanji will complain about any type of food that isn’t his won cooking (and even then he still usually finds fault in something) but toast is easy, comforting, and accessible. Meanwhile Chopper rummages through his bag on the countertop. 

“Give him a few of these, it should help. Also… now that he’s awake, can you make sure that he doesn’t fall asleep again anytime soon? He had a concussion and we should be careful of brain damage, so watch for excessive drowsiness or if he starts saying weird things you have to let me know!” 

“Holy shit Chopper, is this serious?”

“No more serious than what I’m normally patching you all up for!” Chopper heads back to his spot at the table and resumes reading the large textbook in front of him while Zoro puts the bread down into the toaster. He even puts two extra slices in for Chopper as a small thank you. Zoro isn’t as good as Sanji at making sure everyone eats, but Chopper is like a little brother to Zoro and he’s sure the kid hasn’t eaten much today. 

He carefully butters the toast and sets the small plate down in front of the scrawny, big-eyed kid. 

“Hey. Thanks for everything kid. You know we wouldn’t be where we are if it wasn’t for you, right?”

“You know saying stuff like that doesn’t make me happy. I just do what needs to be done.” Zoro notices that Choppers eyes go round and a slight blush creeps into his cheeks, so obviously the doctor is far more pleased with the complement than he says. 

Instead of going directly back to Sanji however, Zoro decides to sit down in front of Chopper for a minute. 

“I know we end up putting you through a lot of shit, and you’re like a kid brother to me. So if you ever feel like you’re out of your league or you can’t handle what’s going on don’t be afraid to say something. I don’t want anyone getting hurt anymore.”

“Zoro, we take care of our own.” Chopper moves the book in front of him so that he’s staring directly at Zoro. “I say that I do what I have to do, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not perfectly happy right where I am. I know that I’m not a real doctor yet, but I’m learning and I have a family. And just like Luffy is always saying, nakama means we don’t give up. I’m good, promise.” 

If Zoro needed to hear anything, it’s exactly what Chopper and Sanji have told him tonight. He’s not dragging his family into hell, and with the knowledge that everyone is standing proudly beside him he can fight without being constantly afraid of losing everything. 

“Alright Chopper. Thanks for that. I’ll let you know if the cook starts going weird, or well, weirder than usual.” Zoro picks up the extra toast and water and exits giving Chopper a mini-salute. 

Sanji however, is not where Zoro left him. 

He walks into an empty bedroom, and sees the blankets on the bed tossed haphazardly, like someone took one from the bottom and ran away with it. 

He leaves the room and wanders around the house for a good while (not, he tells himself, because he is lost but because it’s better to cover a wide area when searching for someone). 

By the time he finds Sanji huddled in the common room, (and he swears he was headed there in the first place, it’s just that the damn walls in the house keep moving) the toast is cold and he’s beginning to lose his patience. But when he catches sight of a blonde quivering mass underneath a bundle of blankets crouched close to a smoldering fire he starts to get a little bit nervous. 

“Sanji?” He asks hesitantly, as he enters the warm room. “Everything alright?”

Sanji jumps at hearing his name called, like he’d forgotten that he’d ever sent Zoro on an errand. Instead of giving a response he merely smiles in a way that doesn’t reach his eyes and then goes back to staring at a particular spot in the air. 

“Hey. What’s the matter, why did you get up and come here?” Zoro moves and sets the water, cold toast, and bottle of pain medicine on a table near the couch. He sits down next to Sanji and places (what he hopes is) a warm and reassuring hand on his back. 

Sanji recoils at the touch and takes in a deep, shuddering breath, while he lights a cigarette that Zoro presumes he found in a pocket. 

“I just need you to uh… not touch me right now. I’m sorry I was just sitting there and then I couldn’t sit there any longer because I remembered how badly my heart was racing last night. Right now all I need to do it sit right here and breathe for a moment.”

Zoro isn’t used to seeing Sanji like this. He’s seen the blonde in a panic attack before, but it’s still jarring to see one of the strongest men he knows reduced to this quivering shape. But if Sanji can handle all of his shit and more, then Zoro can handle everything else. 

“Ok. Here’s water, and pills for your head. I made toast but just like everything else in the kitchen I kind of fucked it up.”

Sanji laughs at that, it’s a wobbly laugh but a laugh nonetheless. Still he moves to swallow a few pills and then slowly sips at the rest of the water in the glass. Zoro doesn’t do anything else, only sitting and trying to think of the next best action. 

In the end, apparently his presence is enough. After a few more silent minutes, Sanji uncoils and rests his head tenderly in Zoro’s lap. Zoro is more than content with where they are now, because who was he kidding, this is exactly the way everything is supposed to be (except for the constant threat of death and destruction, but well, you can’t have everything in life).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! i'm finally free from all academic stresses for a surprising 6 weeks! I'm excited for the next 4 chapters that i'm working on, and hopefully y'all will be too! As always, comments are inspiring. I hope everyone is enjoying the holidays!


	20. Us Watching Them Watching Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to start out with a HUGE thank you to everyone who continues to read this story, and a special shout out to everyone who has left such nice comments and reviews. This is such a huge project for me and I hope you all are enjoying the journey as much as I am. 
> 
>  
> 
> There's smut below, just so you know.  
> Also potential triggers for stalking, if that's your thing.

Dinner is going well so far. 

Sanji recovered enough to the point that he could stomach being touched again, and really _that was the weirdest freakout he’d ever had in his life._ Whatever Perona had put in that cocktail dose had really fucked him up somehow, and he’d like to wipe that feeling from his memory, thank you very much. 

But even after everything, all he’d wanted to do was to go back in the kitchen and lose himself in the routine of cooking and moving his hands over ingredients. It was as comforting as the ragged hoodie he’d put on, and that was all he needed. 

He’s made a stew for the evening. It’s complicated enough to keep his hands busy but overall serves as a comfort food. Leftover vegetables, some beef in the fridge that needed to be cooked; the sound of a knife against the cutting board and the splatter of meat in hot oil in the pan lulls him into a sorely needed sense of security. He knows the salt and the protein in the stew will go a long way towards making him feel better but really he was seeking the comfort of the kitchen. 

His hands aren’t shaking anymore as he kneads the dough for dinner rolls. He’s just not scared anymore. There’s something really calming about having this first ‘trial’ over with. He knows where he’s supposed to be and it just so happens to be exactly where he’s standing. 

Dinner isn’t so much served as people just start showing up to the dining room at various times and stay for various periods; it’s a quiet affair. 

Sanji stays in the kitchen cleaning up, and putting various dishes away. No one comes to join him in the kitchen, and honestly he’s unsure whether he prefers that or feels slightly left out. He’s too wired to make up his mind and when he finally turns off the kitchen light to head up to bed he’s filled with relief at the end of a long day. 

Zoro isn’t in the bedroom by the time Sanji gets there, which is unusual but not enough to give Sanji pause. In the adjoining bathroom he brushes his teeth slowly, zoning out and thinking back to the first day he’d met Zoro. It had been such a weird day. He’d been making several birthday cakes for an event the next day and because of the workload and lack of customers he had closed the shop early, or well he’d tried to. Then Zoro had forcefully butted his way into Sanji’s shop and life. It was such an inconsequential moment – just another customer, with just another order. He wasn’t sure how Zoro had come to mean so much, but there was no denying that Sanji’s life now irrevocably revolved around Zoro. 

And strangely, he liked it that way. As much as the Marimo irritated the shit out of him, Zoro was comforting and strong. Sanji had a new rock to lean on and he felt finally like he is where he’s supposed to be. Maybe the whole… business is confusing and frustrating, and _yeah, really fucking dangerous_ but Sanji wouldn’t rather be anywhere else. He’s in love, and he’s happy. 

Sanji strips off his clothes slowly as he returns to the bedroom, the dim lighting making him drowsy. He’s so lost in his own head and past that he doesn’t notice when Zoro steps into the room until the other man is right behind him helping to remove his shirt. 

There’s a soft kiss pressed into his bare shoulder and Sanji rolls his head, opening more space for Zoro to explore his neck. Zoro’s warm breath against his skin offers comfort and makes Sanji’s blood run a little quicker. 

“How are you feeling?” Zoro’s lips don’t stop moving against Sanji’s skin as he asks the question. 

Sanji turns around slowly and draws Zoro’s face up to meet his own for a soft kiss. 

“Better now. Thank you.”

“For what? I didn’t do anything.”

“You were there. That’s all I needed.”

In response Zoro deepens the kiss and Sanji shivers as he feels the light touch of another tongue against his own. He moves back slowly until his knees bump against the edge of the bed. He wraps his arms around Zoro’s neck and pulls until they fall on top of the bed together. Sanji hears a deep intake of breath from Zoro and he responds by inching up Zoro’s shirt and running his hands over the body on top of him. 

Sanji moves his mouth to meet Zoro’s again and sucks lightly on the bottom lip. Zoro melts into the embrace allowing Sanji to position himself comfortably under Zoro. Bored with the amount of clothes currently still remaining on Zoro’s body, Sanji moves to slip the shirt over his head, only breaking the kiss to allow the fabric to move between them. Hands move against Sanji’s hips and Zoro effectively lifts him up to move higher on the bed. Sanji moves to unbuckle the belt between them while a pair of lips rest on his clavicle. Zoro knows that Sanji’s neck and chest are especially sensitive and Sanji briefly forgets what he’s supposed to be doing as he’s overcome by a wave of pleasure and his blood flow changes.

In that moment the atmosphere in the room shifts and the air is charged with passion and attraction. One of Zoro’s hand meet Sanji’s to further remove the pants in the way.

“Get these off now,” Sanji growls, trying but failing to hide the desperation in his voice. 

In response, Zoro begins moving more quickly, eagerly shucking off his jeans then moving his hands to slip beneath the waistband of Sanji’s boxers. 

“Mmm. Cook. I can’t tell you how much I like seeing you like this.”

Sanji meets Zoro’s eyes and chuckles at the lurid thought. He moves to press his lips against the tender area behind Zoro’s jaw, as he feels a thumb stroke the hair peeking out from under his boxers. 

Moments pass, both men lost in the bliss of foreplay as the last pieces of clothing are finally removed. Sanji raises his hips to press his erection against Zoro’s and sighs as he feels Zoro’s comforting heat radiate all around him. He snakes his hand down, moving from Zoro’s hair downwards to grab both cocks in his hand, he shifts his hand back and forth lightly stroking the both of them. He smiles as he hears Zoro’s breath hitch directly next to his ear, and he moves his thumb to circle the head of Zoro’s cock.

“Ah shit, Cook!” 

Sanji will never tire of hearing Zoro cry out in bed. It’s more or less one of his favorite past-times. 

Zoro pushes himself up off the bed with arms on either side of Sanji’s head. Sanji leans up to press a chaste, light kiss against Zoro’s lips and he feels the other man grin through it. 

Still Zoro moves away, leaving Sanji confused for only a minute until he feels a warm sigh against his erection. He throws his head back in pleasure as he feels Zoro’s mouth envelop his entire length. He can feel Zoro swirl his tongue around the head and Sanji has to focus very hard on controlling himself to not buck into the mouth around him. Thankfully Zoro presses two strong hands against his hips allowing Sanji to lean back; a groan escapes from him as Zoro bobs up and down deeply, setting up a grueling rhythm that makes Sanji’s legs quiver. He moves his hands, one wrapped tightly in the sheets, the other carding softly through Zoro’s hair; not pushing or directing, merely because Sanji can’t keep his hands off the man. 

One of Zoro’s hands moves down and to the side to grasp Sanji’s ass and he feels Zoro narrow his cheeks and suck with increasing pressure as he moves up Sanji’s length. Zoro circles his tongue over the tip of Sanji’s shaft, and their eyes both meet in the process. Zoro smacks his lips together as he breaks contact. 

“How are we doing this tonight?” Sanji’s voice is low and steeped in lust. 

“Can I…?” Zoro asks, the need and want adding a shining quality to his eyes. 

“Oh god, please!” Sanji gasps gratefully as Zoro moves over him to grab lube from a bag haphazardly tossed somewhere. In the process Sanji is presented with an excellent view of Zoro’s shapely ass in the air and he strokes himself absentmindedly over the view.

“Pervert.” The word is hissed in his ear, but he doesn’t care. He’s got every right to jerk off to Zoro’s body right now. He moves to stop, to better embrace Zoro, but a voice whispering, “don’t stop yet,” has him curiously continuing. 

Hands wrap around his lower back, and Sanji spreads his legs apart willingly, one hand still wrapped around his erection. Zoro’s fingers probe his entrance and slip easily inside while a mouth moves over his chest and abdomen keeping his relaxed and certainly more than content. 

Overwhelmed with sensation as Zoro’s fingers curl inside of him and his own hand continues to move, Sanji bucks down and pushes his shoulders hard into the bed as he moans in ecstasy. 

Zoro shifts over him, and Sanji wraps his arms lovingly around him as he feels Zoro lining up then sliding in, quick, fast, hard. 

They move together perfectly, equal opposites, both cut from the same cloth. They move in harmony, Zoro rocking his hips back as he thrusts into the Sanji, Sanji moving down and rolling his hips to create perfect angles. Their mouths move against each other, hearts beating in a syncopated rhythm, gasps accenting their movements, moans singing of pleasure from the other.

Sanji entire body tightens then quivers as he reaches his peak of ecstasy first. His chest tightens and a yell escapes his lips as waves of bliss and pleasure rock through his entire body. Zoro’s heat surrounds him in a cocoon of sex as the other man thrusts hard into Sanji three more times before coming. They stay joined, connected and sensitive, each helping the other move through a post-coital haze. 

Sanji is the first one to move. First to the bathroom to clean up, then back to bed where he throws the blankets and sheets over them. He wraps himself into Zoro’s comforting arms as together they fall blissfully into unconsciousness.

****

Usopp watches hesitantly as the woman approaches the car, digging into a handbag to find her keys. Which is funny to Usopp for the simple reason that she doesn’t need them: the car is unlocked, and he’s sitting in the backseat. Not by himself of course, that would be creepy. Although from the look of the man sitting next to him, Usopp isn’t sure that their appearance is any less frightening. 

The woman unlocks the driver’s side and slides into the seat with a soft sigh. As she sets her bag down on the floor of the passenger side, she catches Usopp’s reflection in the mirror and squeaks loudly. 

“Hey Perona,” Luffy says softly. 

Usopp can see her eyes go wide in the reflection then dart to the bag she had just set down, presumably in anticipation of finding a phone or maybe a weapon of some kind. Usopp merely reaches out and grabs her hand while shaking his head in what he hopes is a menacing manner. It’s not that he’s not good with making a menacing face, he’s just out of practice. He spends a lot of time frightening people, obviously. 

“What do you want?” Her voice doesn’t shake, instead she sounds resigned and pouts in her seat with arms crossed. 

Usopp doesn’t really know what he’s doing here. He’s not even sure it’s a good idea to talk to Perona like this. In fact, he’s about 800% sure that this entire thing is an absolutely terrible idea, and really… “it’s not too late to back out, Luffy please!” Or at least, that’s what he had yelled earlier when he and Luffy had left The Sunny after dinner.

His cries had fallen on deaf ears, which was no more than he expected. So now he too leans back and pouts with arms crossed. Whatever is going on, Luffy can handle and Usopp will pretend to be important. Important in this situation at least… remember he’s the one with the menacing face in the car. He’s obviously very important to The Plan as a whole – nothing would get done if it wasn’t for Usopp. He’s a man of many talents and sometimes he takes a break and lets other people handle the risky business.

“Let’s talk about Zoro, and what you’re going to do after we leave.” Luffy’s voice is low, and he speaks slowly. Every word drops clearly in the silence of the car.

Usopp has to admit that Luffy can be really scary when he has to be. It’s _scary_ how he can go from smiling and bouncing to a credible threat almost immediately. And Usopp would know, having been on the receiving end of that anger once, and it’s not an experience he’d ever want to repeat. 

“What makes you think that I’ll do anything you say?”

This time, it’s Usopp who answers because goddammit he has to say _something._

“Because you know who we are, and you know what we’re capable of. You also know that you don’t have a lot of options left.” His voice doesn’t shake as the words leave him, but after all why would they? Usopp is definitely a strong and dependable person, and not at all the type to be scared when threatening yakuza underbosses. Nope. 

Perona doesn’t say anything in response, and Usopp can see the fight leave her little by little. In the mirror he sees her brows draw downwards and how she begins to worry her bottom lip. Thankfully at this point it’s Luffy that takes over again. 

“We know you sent a message, consider this our follow up. There’s a bag back here that we will be leaving behind. It has everything in it that you might need over the next few months. You’re going to leave here, and you’re not going to think twice about it. I don’t like bullies, and I especially don’t like the people who try to hurt my nakama. Believe me when I say that you’ll be sorry if you don’t do what I tell you to.” Luffy takes a deep breath, centering himself almost, like he’s focusing on keeping his words even. 

“You’re going to leave, and not come back. Start over: find something better to do with your time. Don’t ever think about Zoro or any of us again. Don’t talk about Zoro again. Disappear and don’t look back.” 

From the side of Luffy, Usopp can see that his words had a major impact on Perona. She seems smaller somehow. She’s not crying, and maybe Usopp is a little disappointed about that, but honestly at this point he doesn’t care. They’ve said what they meant to say, and it’s about that time of night where they return to The Thousand Sunny. 

After feeling the tension in the air thicken, almost unbearably so, Usopp opens the door and starts to leave. Before he can fully exit the vehicle though, Perona finally speaks up from her seat in the front. 

“I never meant for him to get hurt y’know. We used to be really close. But you don’t just walk away from family like that.” 

“Family doesn’t do what Mihawk did. We’re Zoro’s family.” Luffy tips his hat even further over the front of his face and slides out after Usopp. 

“We won’t be seeing you again, but good luck.” Luffy closes the door and walks off, not bothering to look behind him. 

Usopp follows slightly behind, still caught up in all of the events that transpired. Honestly the whole situation is pretty fucked up and it’s weird that he’s caught up in it all. He really didn't know anything about Zoro's past beyond the usual 'it was probably bad like every other story in this fucked up crew of misfits.' So to find himself in the middle of the yakuza underworld is surprising to say the least. But Usopp has always admired Zoro, always enjoyed working with him, and yeah... always been a little frightened of him too. But they're nakama, they help each other out. Zoro has helped Usopp out so much that Usopp has only minor qualms about doing something like this. 

Not to say that he hasn’t done things like this before… but breaking into people’s cars and then _waiting_ for them to show up is probably at top of Usopp’s ‘illegal things I’ve done’ list. Which, the longer he stays with Luffy, the longer the list gets. Weird. 

“Whoo! Glad that’s over! I’m sure Chopper would be really worried if I stayed any longer in a situation that might cause a reoccurrence of my ‘can’t-hang-out-with-really-bad-criminals-or-my-heart-will-give-out-disease!” Usopp crosses his arms across his chest and only thinks about how glad he is to be out of that car. And also how cool it would be if he had a cape the next time they went out and did something like this. Which, hopefully there WON’T be another time like this, but just in case. Luffy chuckles in response. 

“Yosh. So Usopp…. Food?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I played around with a different perspective here, hopefully it didn't confuse everyone too much. It's A LOT of fun working to create a different voice for everyone. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	21. At The End Of The Day

Dreams and memories mix and mingle with a stale air of the past. There’s a fine line between what people actually remember and what really happened – sometimes imagination gets the best of us. Nevertheless, dreams are part of a person’s essence. At night the subconscious plays fast and loose with the best and the worst parts of the psyche, sometimes it dredges up horrors sooner forgotten and other time brings fonder recollections of simpler times. What once was, and maybe now is over with, is never forgotten in dreams. 

 

_Zoro dreams._

Walking home from school there was about a 50% chance he’d get jumped. It was really just a side effect of the buildings moving and streets never being where he remembered them. Apparently a scruffy kid like him stands out in certain places, and apparently people like to take advantage of things that look like they break easily. But Zoro isn’t the type of kid to break easily. 

“Oi, Kid! Where you going? You don’t belong here.” 

Of course. Here it comes. 

He can tell from the wet and heavy footsteps against the sidewalk that there are three people walking behind him, but they’re slow and sloppy. Zoro could easily walk out of this with only a few scrapes. He didn’t respond to the taunt, only tugged his threadbare jacket up closer against the wind and kept walking. 

“Hey. I asked you a question. Where are you going?” 

The voices moved closer behind him, and Zoro had to take in several deep breaths in an attempt to center himself and not let his irrational side have control in a fight. Unexpectedly a hand grabbed his shoulder to turn him around (and really he should have won a goddamn prize for not lashing out immediately). 

“Listen up punk! You don’t just get to ignore me!” 

The idiot that grabbed him is yelling (they’re always yelling) some stupid shit about how he’s in the wrong territory, and how Zoro is just a punk ass kid, and ‘ooh what are you gonna do _tough guy_?’ 

Zoro just breathed in deeper and ignored it. He could handle having this type of shit thrown in his face. It’s not a big deal, not really. What’s important is that he gets home for dinner on time, because Kuina’s birthday is coming up and later he is going to ask Koshiro to help him go shopping when he gets home. Breathe. 

The guy who grabbed him swung his arm back for a punch but Zoro managed to duck quite efficiently. He was right, the guys were slow; an easy fight then. At least he wouldn’t have to lie about swinging first. 

Zoro moved back and planted his feet firmly against the concrete. When the guy who missed him rushed forward, Zoro stood at the ready, he again ducked below the reach and dealt a swift blow via knee directly to the diaphragm. His attacker fell to his knees on the ground, which gave Zoro the perfect angle to deliver an elbow to the neck; one down. 

The two other attackers moved in closer, which gave Zoro no chance but to put up his fists while he prayed they wouldn’t all attack at once (they did). He managed to knock one down, but when one fell the other moved behind Zoro and knocked him down to the ground. It sucked when he got knocked down, but it did happen occasionally. Zoro knew where his strength lay though, he always got back up. 

By some supreme planetary alignment, Zoro had fallen next to a trash bin where he found a slim pipe sticking up. He thanked his lucky stars, grabbed the pipe and smoothly turned to face the lone attacker. 

The guy hadn’t stood a chance, and really it was his own dumb fault for picking on Zoro that evening. Zoro moved fluidly, sure of every step and feeling a hell of a lot stronger with a weapon in his hands. 

He beat the shit out of the guy. 

He’d almost killed him. 

A large hand placed firmly on his shoulder spooked him enough to cause him to drop the pipe. It clattered loudly and echoed between the buildings as he looked up into the person over-shadowing him. 

“Enough.” The voice was cold and detached, powerful but not overbearing. 

“Yeah? Who are you? You can’t tell me what to do.” Zoro, (poor, young, Zoro) stepped back and readjusted his jacket, trying to look older and tougher than he was in that moment. 

Before he could register the movement, there was a sword drawn and placed against his throat. A real sword: not the practice shinai or dulled katana blades he’d fought with before. Real sharpened and tempered metal was thrust against his throat and Zoro might have been awed if he wasn’t slightly worried about wetting his pants out of fear. 

“On the contrary, I believe I can. Now young one,” the voice became slightly gentler as the sword was withdrawn, “what is your name?” 

“Zoro.” One-word answers seemed to be the safest bet at this point. He had no idea what he might be getting himself into. And honestly, he was really frightened. It’s not every day that someone stops you from beating the crap out of another guy and then puts a sword against your neck. Those kinds of things didn’t happen. Who the hell carries around a sword these days? 

“Zoro,” the man repeats, as if he’s checking the taste and feel of the kid’s name. “You seem like you know how to handle a weapon. Why were you attacking these people?” The man pushed the hat back slightly, and Zoro could see a strict jaw below yellow, piercing eyes. Ok, so the guy with the sword was not only creepy sounding, but also creepy looking. 

“They attacked me first!” Zoro argued, his tone darker than he originally intended. The other man didn’t respond, only blinked slowly as if silently urging Zoro to continue his story. 

“I kneed the first guy after he took a swing at me. They jumped me for no reason, I was just walking home from school! The last guy pushed me down and I picked up the pipe. It’s not katana like I’m used to, but it worked in the moment. I’m not gonna say sorry. You can point that broadsword all you want at me but I won’t.” 

“You fight with katana?” The man picked out the smallest of details in Zoro’s story. He sounded a little surprised now; it was hidden under a layer of disdain and suspicion but present nonetheless. Zoro only nodded in response. It’s true at least. He’s been practicing kendo for years at the local dojo. He wasn’t as good as Kuina, yet, but he felt more comfortable with a sword in his hand than he did anywhere else as a kid. 

Kids are stupid. School is stupid. His step-father doesn’t care about him and it’s not like anyone wants to be friends with a green haired loner like him. He _tries_ of course, but he just doesn’t have the words to talk to people, and he somehow trouble always seems to find him (just like how now he’s apparently stumbled onto a whole mess of trouble). 

“Zoro. Follow me.” The man (Zoro still doesn’t know who he is) turns away and moves toward a car parked at the end of an adjacent alley. He doesn’t look to see if Zoro is following. The demand was harsh, barked almost, and the air of power and control made Zoro wary of just who he was dealing with. Zoro had heard strange tales of kids meeting strangers in some unsavory alleyway and disappearing without a trace. While Zoro thought more highly of himself (he at least could fight off pretty much anyone who wanted to hurt him), he definitely didn’t want to get himself into something that he couldn’t get out of. 

“Why would I follow you? You’re just a random stranger who threatened me in a creepy alley. I’m going home.” Zoro made to turn around and stop walking, but another hand on his shoulder pulled him back. It was another man, one he hadn’t seen around at any point; Zoro struggled to disentangle himself. 

“You’re going to follow me because you want something more out of life. You want to move up in the world, you want to feel validated. I can show you that. I can make you stronger. And more importantly, I will teach you to fight with katana instead of playing with them. Now get in the car,” The man’s tone didn’t change throughout his entire speech, if anything he sounded bored. Bored enough that his words caught and held Zoro’s absolute attention. “I won’t ask again.”

Zoro made his way down the alleyway to follow the man. 

Zoro followed him for a long time.

 

 

****

_Sanji dreams._

“Eggplant, what are you doing?” 

“I’m making soup, old geezer. Leave me alone!” 

“I told you to get your little butt in bed two HOURS ago!” 

“Well I woke up HUNGRY, so leave me ALONE!” 

Zeff’s eyes went soft at that. He can’t deny the kid food. 

Sanji continued bustling around the kitchen, constantly tasting the soup, savoring the smells of the kitchen. He was too small to really being working in such a large kitchen; he hadn’t grown recently and he knew Zeff was a little worried about it at the time. He had to carry a step stool all over the kitchen whenever he needed something from the refrigerator or from the spice rack in the pantry – which was pretty much constantly. 

Sanji knew that Zeff was watching him closely; watching to see how he moved around, what he put into the soup… that this was a test as much as it was whatever kind of faux-familial bond they were sharing. He wanted to eat of course, it wasn’t a lie that he was hungry because really he was ALWAYS hungry, but he also wanted to impress Zeff. Because Zeff was everything that Sanji wanted to be: he was strong, he could fight and he could cook. 

Sanji had found peace in cooking. For once in his life he was helping to create something, and he was helping other people. Cooking meant living – intrinsically and unquestionably. 

Sanji’s stomach was grumbling loudly by the time he finally pronounced the soup done. He carefully ladled it out into two bowls, Zeff was still watching, _the old bastard_ , and he only spilled two drops. He grabbed place settings and ceremoniously placed everything on the table. 

He didn’t wait for Zeff to say anything before eating his own soup. The grumpy geezer would say something when he wanted to and no prompting, waiting, or starry eyes from Sanji would make any kind of difference. He’d learned that early on after moving in with Zeff. Trying to get any kind of emotional response between the two of them just lead to louder screaming across the house. It was better to just silently acknowledge their relationship and leave it be. 

So Sanji ate in silence. The soup was good and he knew it; it was exactly what he wanted after waking up scared in the dark, not that he would have ever admitted that. 

As he finished the last swallow, and watched Zeff finish his bowl as well he moved to clean everything up. 

“Well, the soup was alright.” 

“Uh-huh. Sure old man.” 

“A little heavy on the salt. You need more protein base when you make it again.” 

Sanji didn’t respond out loud this time, he could recognize when someone was paying him a compliment, however rare they might be. Zeff said ‘when’ not ‘if.’ Sanji was finally receiving some recognition of his natural talent in the kitchen. 

“Go to bed eggplant, I’ll clean up. You need to be awake bright and early in the morning if you’re going to prep in the kitchen tomorrow.” 

“You mean it? I can help prep?” Sanji could not help his voice rising in excitement, couldn’t stop his eyes from glowing with pride now that Zeff was finally going to let him help in the kitchen. 

“What are your ears full of wax? You heard what I said! Now beat it, you miniaturized piece of moldy bread!” 

Sanji took the steps by two as he ran to his bedroom. He quickly turned the lights off and threw himself underneath the covers of his bed. He was still keyed up from Zeff’s offer, but it WAS late and he was tired even if he would never have admitted it. 

He sank deeper into sleep as thoughts of actually working in the kitchen bounced around in his head. 

 

 

Younger Sanji woke abruptly as he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be in the kitchen of The Baratie extra early that morning. He dressed hurriedly, though still mindful to make sure that his extra-small chef’s whites were buttoned correctly and that he didn’t have his apron on inside out. 

He crept quietly down the steps, trying to sneak into the kitchen so that no one would really notice that he was late, when he heard voices coming from the dining room. Voices he recognized. 

“What are you doing back here Kreig?” Zeff’s voice was thick with anger and disdain. 

KREIG?! If there was any one human being on the face of the planet that Sanji did not want to see, it was him. The bastard that was responsible for the complete upheaval of his life. The asshole who ruined _everything_ , the son of a bitch who had almost killed him. 

“I see you’ve picked up another lost soul on your crazy ship here.” Kreig’s voice was exactly how it sounded in Sanji’s nightmares. Dripping with the threat of bodily mutilation; a voice so sure in its own power. 

“And?” Zeff’s voice is dripping with his usual brand of disdain. 

“You can’t keep pretending that you’re doing this for him.” 

“I’m not doing anything. Kid needed a home. I had the room.”

“Give him back, he’s mine.” Kreig growled out his demand. Sanji clasped a hand over his mouth to stifle the gasp that nearly escaped him. He thought only of how much he can’t go back there. He WON’T go back to that hellhole. 

“First of all, you left him to die. I think that cancels out whatever right you _think_ you have over him. Secondly, you can take him back over my dead body.” Sanji’s chest swelled with devotion and happiness. _Zeff isn’t going to make him leave. Zeff will protect him again!_

“That can be arranged.” Even Sanji, little, broken, Sanji, doesn’t buy the false bravado Krieg attempted to project. 

“Cut the cliché gangster shit. This isn’t The Godfather, and if anything you owe ME. I picked you out of the gutter once, I can throw you right back in.” 

“That’s not what this is about old man! You can’t just go around claiming things as yours!” Sanji heard the slam of a fist against a table as Kreig spat out his words.

“Listen here, you ungrateful wretch. You were nothing more than a broken wet puppy when I picked you up! I gave you shelter. I put you back on your feet. You want to go around causing trouble and ruining lives that’s YOUR business, but you don’t bring that kind of shit back to me. I’m fixing your mistake! There are a lot of people in higher places that would be more than happy to get their hands on you. Leave now and don’t darken my fucking doorstep again unless you want me to make a special delivery of chopped wannabe.” Though the door Zeff’s heavy breathing was heard clearly after his tirade. 

“Why you…” Sanji heard the unmistakable sounds of a scuffle through the door. He sat down behind the corner and closed his eyes tight. People always fought in the world, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t FAIR. Why did people have to be so terrible? Why did so many bad things have to happen in the world? He has to take in a deep breath to stop himself from shaking to pieces. This was not how his morning was supposed to go. 

He hears a heavy crash on the ground and the distinctive sound of cracked wood; someone hit the ground, hard. 

“Haha. You never did put up a good fight.” A slight pause as the sound of two people breathing heavily from effort fills the room. “You know Mihawk’s in the next town over. I’m sure him and that rag-tag band he calls Yakuza would love to get a call from an old friend about some poseur peacock wreaking havoc in his territory. Wouldn’t that just be the icing on the cake for you?” Zeff’s words sounded thick with overexertion, but judging from the direction of the sound it wasn’t him that hit the ground.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Kreig’s voice cracks on the last word. 

“Watch me. It’ll be easy, like calling for a delivery. Don’t think an old dog like me loses tricks or friends.” 

“Fine. I’ll leave,” Krieg spat, his voice sounded resigned and vaguely threatening. Sanji heard footsteps leading away from me, until they pause near the door. “I hope that brat ruins your kitchen the way I should have – after how you treated me.” 

“Animals need to be kept in line, and they need to learn to respect authority. Now get out of my sight, and don’t ever come back.” 

Sanji heard the front door of The Baratie open, and then slam forcefully shut. He ran silently up the stairs waiting for the metaphorical, or quite possibly the literal, dust to settle before he even thought about going down to the kitchen. 

Why was Kreig here? What was the point of the showdown he was witness to? Sanji doesn’t know, and it’s possible that he never will. All he knows is that Zeff didn’t give him up. Zeff was giving him a chance at a brand new life. He wasn’t going to give Zeff a reason to doubt that chance whatsoever. 

Firming his resolve Sanji moved downstairs again, this time heading for the kitchen where he should have been in the first place. 

As he pushed aside the double swinging doors, Sanji was instantly assaulted by the sounds and smells of a fully functioning industrial kitchen. Every surface was shining after having been meticulously scrubbed clean the night before. Dozens of chefs bustled around; some carrying heavy and full bins of sauce or chopped vegetables, some running from workplace to workplace to check pots or pans left simmering. 

“You’re late, brat! Get to work!” Zeff kicked him in the ankle and shooed him in the direction of a station with whole, ripe fruit left for cleaning and slicing. 

Sanji would make sure that he never gave Zeff a reason to regret taking a poor, orphaned, and starving kid in. He lowered his head, and got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively titled: "a lesson in hating yourself: writing in a tense you're unused to" 
> 
>  
> 
> I didn't mean to sit on this chapter for so long. I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know how you feel about the flashbacks! There's a few other literary tricks I might play out before this is over so I really want to see how receptive y'all are to the changing styles. I'm still working on the few final chapters, and I hope to be done with this soon but the Going is Slow. As always, your kinds words in the comment box get me through the day. -x


	22. A Method to the Madness

The secret to winning a fight is all about control. Technical skill and strength will only give so much advantage if control is lacking. Control sets the parameters, control allows for strategy, control keeps things from getting… well, out of control. 

Sanji prides himself in his control. He doesn’t get emotional very easily _(or well, he's working on that)_ , he enjoys planning and following things through, and he always takes the time to think about the situation he’s in _(usually)_. 

Which is why being with Zoro is truly testing him. He didn’t think he’d have fallen in love at his age – certainly not with someone who is as annoying as Zoro, and he certainly didn’t think he’d be at a safe house, surrounded by people with similar tragic circumstances, currently working to get out of the clutches of a yakuza boss. And he definitely didn’t expect to wake up in the morning _happy_ about all of it. Or, at least, most of it.

But he is happy. And things aren’t necessarily out of control, they’re just not in _his_ control. It’s a little better, but not by much. Just like everything that’s happened over the past 8 months, Sanji will just have to learn to get through it. 

He wakes early in the morning, later than usual but early by anyone’s standards, prompted by the flickering light of snowflakes dancing outside his window. The snow won’t stick for long, the ground isn’t cold enough, but it’s a cheery thought to banish the black cloud Sanji feels has settled over the house lately. It’s cold in the room, but warm and comfortable underneath the quilt and comforter he’d had the sense to pull onto the bed last night. Without really moving, Sanji mentally takes stock of his body, feeling the weight of his legs wrapped in between his bed-mate’s, the strength in his ankles and shins, the way his knees are bent though not uncomfortably so; there’s a slight stiffness in his lower back that’s probably something to do with the shift in temperature than anything else… _although there was that incident that involved being tied to a chair._

Sanji tries to reorganize his thoughts such that he doesn’t dwell on such an unpleasant memory. He’s been trying to live more in the present recently, and so far it’s working… though he hasn’t been holding present thoughts long enough to log any mental victories. 

Still, with everything that’s happened so far, it’s a start. 

His slight shifting wakes Zoro, and Sanji rolls his head over as he watches the bleary-eyed man wrestle with consciousness. 

“Cook, I swear to god if you don’t stop wiggling I’ll push you out of the bed.” Zoro’s voice is husky with the remainder of sleep, and if Sanji didn’t know better he might have described Zoro’s tone as a growl. 

“Morning Marimo.” Sanji can’t help but smile. He’s in bed with the man he loves, who wouldn’t smile? “It’s warm. I could stay in bed like this forever.” 

“We could you know. Just burrow down and forget about the outside world.” Zoro moves over on the bed slightly so that he can rest his arm over his head as he tries to rub the last vestiges of sleep away from his eyes. 

“Dumbass, that wouldn’t work. We’d have to eat.” Sanji, ever the practical man. Which is weird because generally speaking Sanji has never really lived his life practically.

“Among other things maybe.” Zoro smirks as he leans over to place a kiss on Sanji’s lips, the touch soft and warm; although Sanji keeps it short. 

“Ew, get off of me. Your breath stinks.” Sanji bats Zoro’s head and hand away “So what are we doing today?” Sanji sits up in the bed, leaning against the mass of pillows on his side of the bed; Zoro, the heathen, has thrown all of his pillows off during the night. 

“Resting, recuperating, planning maybe.” Opposite of Sanji, Zoro sinks lower into the bed, his eyes half lidded putting him in danger of falling back asleep. 

“Planning for what?” Sanji yawns and presses sleepily into his pillow. 

“You know.”

“Uh? No? Care to share, grass for brains? You could be planning tomorrow’s dinner? Planning a shopping trip? Planning a wedding?” 

“A wedding?” Zoro mumbles, sounding incredulous. “Does that mean that you want to marry me curly brow?” He leans over, wiggles one eyebrow, and stares pointedly at Sanji. 

Sanji blushes bright red. Marriage? That’s definitely on the very bottom of his priorities; so low in fact, that it’s sub-prioritized, if that’s a thing. 

“Th-Th-Th-THAT is NOT what I was saying! As if! Who would want anything to do with an ugly, inappropriate, directionless, piece of shit like YOU?” 

“Dial it in, Cook. What does that shitty spiral need time to charge? Planning? Did you forget why we’re here?” With Zoro’s words, everything comes immediately back to Sanji, and the mood is ruined. 

“Yeah. I thought so.” Zoro doesn’t speak the words so much as sigh them, as if Mihawk is a monster lurking in the shadows; an outline against the horizon, so close yet so far away. 

“Well, I suppose it’ll be a long day then. I’ll move down to the kitchen to get food started.” He moves the covers off and disentangles his legs from the sheets before a hand is dragging him back down onto the bed. 

“Mmmm…. Not just yet.” 

Later than Sanji would have liked, he heads downstairs bundled up in a jacket to step outside of the kitchen. He lights his first cigarette of the day, enjoying the smoke filling his lungs and the sudden rush with the first hit of nicotine. It’s going to be a long day, _hell, the past few weeks have been practically unbearably long_ , but as always Sanji chooses to soldier on. He’ll keep putting one foot in front of the other until he, and Zoro, are where they need to be. 

He puts the cigarette out by the simple maneuver of scratching the filter against concrete steps and is just about to toss the butt into a nearby bucket when he hears rustling behind him. 

Nami, standing bundled up in mismatched winter clothing smiles softly at him. 

“I love snow, don’t you? The world just falls quiet and it feels like everything moves in slow motion.” She tucks her chin underneath her scarf for added warmth, and Sanji catches a peculiar twinkle in her eye. 

“Nami, you always amaze me with your ability to find beauty in the little things.” Sanji leans against the façade of the house and joins Nami in looking across the grounds. Snowflakes softly land on the ground, an unearthly white mixing strangely with the muted green grass below. 

“Well, I work with what I’ve got.” 

Sanji attempts to find another compliment to pay Nami, or rather he searches for something semi-intelligent to say but instead is caught staring at the way the clouds above move slowly, undulating above the unbroken peaceful gray landscape. 

“How are you feeling Sanji?” 

“Could be better, could be worse,” he sighs softly, tucking his hands into his pockets. “It’s been a rough few weeks.” 

“Ha. That’s an understatement.” Nami’s short derisive laugh manages to imitate exactly how Sanji feels. “Well, regardless of what happens I think it’s a good thing that you’re here.” 

“No, don’t try and say how it’s your own privilege,” Nami continues speaking despite Sanji’s well-meaning interruption. “Look, it’s kind of weird to say but this whole fiasco will end up being really good for Zoro. You’re really good for Zoro. I mean, it’s tough what we’re going through... what you both are going through, it’s hard constantly looking over your shoulder and being afraid that the world will change suddenly in front of you. I guess… well I guess I’m not really sure what I’m trying to say. I’m glad you’re here.” 

Sanji honestly doesn’t know how to respond. He thought, he’d _hoped_ , that everything would turn out for the better in the end but it means so much more to receive validation from someone without a deeply personal stake in the matter. He knows whatever they’ll go through in the days to come will be the true test. With any luck at the end things will fall properly in order. 

He is struck again too, by the blatant honesty of everyone around him. He doesn’t know details, doesn’t think he wants to know details of everyone’s life… but it’s reassuring, also worrying, to know that neither he nor Zoro are alone in any aspect of this affair. 

Sanji watches in stunned silence as Nami turns to head back inside. He sees he pause with her hand on the door. 

“Ne, Sanji? Do you know how to make risgyrnsgrot?" 

“Gesundheit, my love.” Sanji watches in quiet joy as the forlorn look from earlier leaves Nami’s eyes. “Kidding, of course. For you my dear? I’d learn how to cook the moon. But I am familiar with rice pudding, I might be able to manage something.” 

“Thank you Sanji.” A small wistful smile dances on Nami’s mouth as she opens the door and disappears from sight. 

Sanji follows her back inside shortly, but not before shaking his head and laughing, not for the first and certainly not for the last time, about just what kind of family he’d gotten himself attached to. 

Breakfast is perhaps more complicated than he’d planned originally. He made personalized crepes for everyone, after discovering a very dusty flat-top pan in the back of the kitchen much to the crew’s enjoyment, but it meant that he spent most of the morning in the kitchen itself, designing individualized meals and serving up any special requests. 

Zoro, or course, walks in late. 

“Morning sleeping beauty! You’re late. You missed breakfast!” Sanji scoffs and gazes pointedly at the stack of dirty dishes, which are admittedly being cleaned thoroughly by Luffy; both in the sink and via Luffy eating any last crumbs. 

“Well I’m here now, so it’s obviously not over. Just serve me up some toast or something." 

“Hell no! If you wanted something to eat, you should have been here earlier! Go sit by a window and photosynthesize or something!” 

“Cook. Food. Now.” Zoro punctuates each of his words by steadily increased the furrow in his brow. 

“Me. No. Make. Food.” Sanji imitates back, in what is definitely not some form of childish game. 

“Ok, see, when you do that you just sound more stupid that usual.” Zoro moves to stand in front of Sanji, clearly expressing his contempt of the situation. 

“Can it asshole. If you’re going to keep being rude I won’t even make you lunch later.” 

Several intense stares later, a few rude gestures, and some form of primitive body language communication over 3 tense minutes, Sanji just roles his eyes and fetches a foil wrapped plate that he’d hidden on top of the refrigerator. It wasn’t hot, and it wasn’t anything overly fancy, but Sanji really never would have refused to make food for anybody; even if that person were one of the most annoying bastards on the face of the planet; and _especially_ when he was dating that specific chief annoying bastard. 

Zoro stalks off, and Sanji busies himself with cleaning up the kitchen before he heads off to find the way-ward moss. He’s got nothing better to do after all. 

Zoro sits in the living room surrounded by bits of paper while the computer screen exaggerates his perpetual frown and illuminates the tired circles under his eyes. His empty plate sits forgotten on the table next to him – and considering the time he’d been left alone for, Sanji assumes it was eaten in probably record time. 

“Oi, Moss head. What are you working on?” 

Zoro’s head moves in a delayed manner as he shifts his attention from the work in front of him. Sanji notices with a small bit of sadness that Zoro has been working himself into exhaustion over the past few days. Sure, they are all tired, and none of them can relax until everything’s over, but Sanji fears that just like everything else – Zoro is wearing himself out through his dedication and passion. 

“Work stuff. There are just a few things I’ve been keeping my eye on and I wanted to make sure every base is covered at the office.” 

“Speaking of, how is it that you and Usopp can both be taking so much time off for work?” Sanji moves to sit in front of Zoro while the other man shifts his focus back to the computer. He casually places both feet on the desk, one crossed over the other. 

“You have to do that?” Zoro raises an eyebrow, staring at Sanji's feet in place on top of the desk. 

“Of course! If it didn’t bother you, I wouldn’t have done it.” 

“Asshole.” 

“Fuckwad.” 

Zoro only smirks in response. 

“Technically speaking Usopp is the boss, so if he says that we’re taking a short leave of absence, we take the time off and a few other, select, people take up a bit of the work. We’re not a retainer company though…we find our own clients so it’s not like we’re missing out on anything. Who’s covering at All Blue for you?” 

“I’ve got a new girl, Jessica, filling in for me with the leftover catering reservations, but otherwise it’s closed. It’s not like we’re hurting for lack of customers.” Sanji continues to make himself comfortable in the chair he’s occupied, wiggling around a bit, shuffling papers on the desk; just making a lot of noise in general to distract/annoy/have fun with Zoro, _because really, that’s all part of the fun between them right?_

“Hmmph.” Zoro’s non-committal grunt is enough to let Sanji know that he was listening, but is preoccupied, and doesn’t have anything to add to the conversation. Sanji just sits in silence, enjoying the quiet until Zoro finishes whatever is demanding so much of his attention. 

A deep sigh indicates that whatever Zoro had been trying to work on isn’t leading to any fruition. 

“So… Whatcha doin’?” Sanji says, in a vague sing-song manner. 

“Looking up criminal records.” 

“Wow, riveting. Find anything good?” 

“A whole bunch of priors on a bunch of Kuma’s goons – a few that are pretty nasty and some solid rumors, but I don’t think any of it will really help us in the end.” 

Sanji only hums in a, _go on_ manner. 

“I never personally worked with Kuma. He was always more intelligence than anything else, and I was the muscle. But I remember this one conversation that they had, I don’t know if Mihawk knew I was listening. I seem to remember that Kuma was double-crossing the police and I wish that I could remember specific details but I can’t. I just… really want to be prepared for what we’re going up against. It won’t be like last time." 

“Ok, see it’s really cute when you get all worried like that, but you’re gonna have to stop with the monologuing.” 

“What does that even mean?” Zoro sighs exasperatedly. 

“You know, monologuing? You get all tense, and you get this look on your face like it’s you versus the world, and then you go on this weird tangential rant that’s partially philosophical and almost always depressing. You gotta stop that.” 

Zoro’s one cocked eyebrow tells Sanji that he’s still not really catching on. Typical. 

“It’s like you’re complaining, but not. Stop worrying about it so much! We’re all here for you, and honestly if I have to tell you THAT one more time I’m gonna have to go walk into traffic to break up the monotony.” Sanji shuffles over and tries to join Zoro on the loveseat he’s sprawled onto. 

“Save us your attitude and go for it. It’s one less thing I'll have to worry about.” 

“SEE! That’s what I’m talking about! Now shut your face, stop worrying, and move your ass over, I’m very uncomfortable.” They are both _attempting_ to sit on a loveseat, which while originally designed for two people, was not structured to be comfortable for characteristics like Zoro’s absurd muscle mass and Sanji’s long legs. 

****

“Pudding!”

Sanji stares at Luffy after his outburst at the dinner table. He’s not wrong? They’re eating the rice pudding Nami had requested, and while Luffy generally is yelling out nonsense things, ‘pudding’ is pretty fucking absurd given the current topic of conversation. 

They’re eating dinner, everyone closely clustered around the table seated in chairs borrowed from various rooms. After the usual compliments to the chef, the dinner conversation had turned to what the next plans would be – the crew is nothing if not practical – when Luffy so very loudly interrupted. 

“What?” A very stunned Sanji is far less eloquent than he would like. 

“Pudding and Pie! I’ve just thought of it, it’s perfect!” 

Now Sanji isn’t the only one staring a Luffy incredulously. 

“Uh, Luffy, care to explain further?” Nami says, slowly and carefully. 

“Listen. Zoro gets arrested and Sanji takes him into the Kono guy’s house – then we’re in, we kick some ass, and Kuni goes to jail!” Voices burst out immediately in surprise and dissention. 

“Luffy that’s insane!”

“Of course that’s not gonna work bro! We can’t let Zoro get arrested!” 

“What are you talking about Luffy?”

“It could work.” Everyone’s heads turn simultaneously towards Zoro at the end of the table as they all drop off into stunned silence. He doesn’t say anything, not yet, but Sanji can see him slowly puzzling through an idea. 

“Did you lose a few brain cells with your recent transplantation Marimo? Since when is being arrested a good idea?” 

“We’d need to call Brook, probably Smoker or Coby as well. But it would get us into his house for sure.” 

“I still don’t understand! On what planet that this will work?” 

“Sanji it will though!” Luffy tries to enunciate around mouthfuls of steak. 

“Oh I see. It’s likely that nobody _actually_ knows what Sanji looks like. If both of you walk in and open the door from the inside – we could set Kuma up for revealing his involvement. Assuming they don’t figure out the plan in the first place.” Robin’s quiet, low voice punctuates the conversation. 

“…Ok. In some weird parallel universe, maybe this is starting to make sense.” Actually, Sanji isn’t sure that it’s making sense at all; he really just wants other people to start explaining _when the fuck getting arrested was EVER a good idea._

“Alright, so I get arrested, then sprung, and we walk into Kuma’s house together on pretense of getting turned over by his cronies. Easy access, easy fix.” 

“Ooh, we can hack into his computer, set him up to reveal something incriminating… you’re right this could just work after all!” Usopp is perhaps the most surprised at the table, short of Sanji. 

“We’ll definitely need Brook then, Luffy can you get in touch?” Zoro asks, his gaze fixed directly at the man seated at the head of the table. 

“Haha, yeah! Of course! It shouldn’t be a problem! I haven’t seen Brook in a while anyway, I’ve been missing his music.” Luffy adds, laughing. Sanji doesn’t know who Brook is, why he’s important or why music fits into everything, but he is starting to see the entire plan come together. 

“Ok, so we bug the house take control from the inside or we get something off his computer, then what? And how exactly are you planning on getting yourself arrested?” 

“We just have to keep Kuma distracted enough to stop him from getting involved with anything that’s slightly above his pay-grade. We don’t have to get rid of him indefinitely, just cause a massive inconvenience – like putting Smoker on his trail. You’re right Luffy, I can see how this would work.” With Nami’s agreement, Sanji has lost his last defense. Surely Nami, the voice of reason, would have been the first to see the flaws in this plan? _How does no one else see how absolutely ludicrous the entire conversation is?_

“Alright, so mosshead, how exactly are you planning on getting yourself arrested?” 

“Well, you’ve seen me act before, Cook. It shouldn’t be that hard to play the drunk. A little public intoxication technically never hurt anyone.” 

Sanji actually snorts at that. Zoro arrested for public intoxication. That’s a joke right? Zoro, the man who can down a half bottle of whiskey and then recite business law? Zoro, the man who has quite literally drunken Sanji under the table and then won two more drinking contests without blinking an eye? That Zoro, arrested for being drunk?

“Oh really? And you want to pretend you’ve never been arrested either?” Zoro says, side-eying Sanji with a raised eyebrow. Sanji can only see where this is leading.

“Don’t you dare.”

“What was her name? Carmen?” Zoro’s sideways grin spreads out, lighting up his entire face. 

“It was a misunderstanding, that’s all” Sanji spurts out, turning various shades of pink. 

“Ooh! Somebody is going to have to share this story before everything is over!” Nami clasps her hands in front of her mouth, eyes shining with the possibility of future blank-mail. 

“It’s really _nothing _, right Zoro?” Sanji glares pointedly at the offending party. After all there are definitely stories that Zoro would no doubt want the others hearing about. “Fine, fine, you really think this will work?”__

__“I can’t think of any better ideas.” Zoro shrugs, and picks up a piece of forgotten bread from his plate._ _

__“Can I be the first to point out that not having any better ideas still doesn’t make this one good?”_ _

__“No I’m serious, I’ve thought this out over and over again and this sounds like the best way to get inside.”_ _

Sanji can only scoff in response. He’s not sold on the idea, but he’s also aware that he plays a pretty big role; big enough that if he doesn’t believe it will work, the plan most likely won’t. He sighs again, if only to express his discomfort and resignation, two sentiments he’s getting pretty tired of being familiar with. What happens will happen, and _truthfully_ , Sanji thinks, _he’s powerless to stop anything in the end._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I really don't have a timeline for the next few chapters at all, but thank y'all for your patience. I'm trying hard to work on this but life is absolutely mad right now. It's wrapping up nicely though! Hopefully this chapter works as an interesting interlude as well as setting up the next bit. Shout out to my dear footnoodles, who I have FINALLY found online, even though I'm shit at messaging people :) Go check out their story: Arrow!
> 
> As always comments and critique are super appreciated and I'd love to know your thoughts about this chapter - especially since there's not a lot of action in this one. Sending lots of springtime love -x.


	23. Everybody is Looking for Something

“Boys, this is probably the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. Which is pretty significant considering the shit I’ve had to put up with you rag-tag sons of bitches. This takes the cake, though. I’m assuming this is Luffy’s harebrained scheme?” A deep, growling voice filters over the speaker on Zoro’s phone. 

“Smoker, we just need to know that we have an out from lock-up. Yes or no?”

“Well you dragged me into this and I’m giving you my very obvious solicited opinion – which is that you are all a gigantic pain in my ass.” The phone crackles with what sounds like Smoker deliberately blowing into the phone. “This is the last favor you get with county and bail, let’s get that straight.” 

_This isn’t the first time?!_ Sanji mouths, looking perplexedly at Zoro who only shuts him up with a wave. 

“Like I really enjoy working with your ugly mug. Cut the crap Smoker, you know we work well together, ” Zoro mocks. 

“Just because you and the rest of that gang actually give a shit about this town doesn’t mean I like nor agree with your methods.” There’s a brief lull in the conversation – both sides having reached an impasse in terms of their own opinions. “Whatever. Be out before midnight. Then you can go and get yourself killed, see if I care.” The phone beeps signaling the abrupt end to the conversation.

****

“I still don’t really understand why you actually have to be arrested for this,” Sanji states matter-of-factly with one hand held lightly out the window, a cigarette balanced between his fingers. He flicks the end lightly and sighs as ash falls to the ground below. He takes his foot off the brake pedal and brings his arm in as the traffic light in front of them turns to green.

“Because we’re being watched, obviously. Listen, I get arrested, I go to jail.” Zoro counts out the steps on his fingers as he explains. “Someone in the organization finds out that I’m there and the order gets sent to bring me in. That’s where you and Brook come in. You both bust me loose, and you ‘deliver’ me to the organization. We kick ass and we go home happy. Makes sense?”

“Not really, no. But then again this hasn’t made any sense since the beginning so I’m not fucking surprised.” Sanji sighs internally again as he makes a left-hand turn. He’s beyond the point of trying to puzzle out the intricacies of whatever the mess they’re in can be called. He knows the part that he has to play and he knows that if he thinks too hard about any of it, he’ll only bring in unneeded anxiety and stress – two things that Sanji is absolutely sure that Zoro has in spades already. If anything, Sanji is looking forward to tonight; he’s looking forward to being done. 

“Yeah well, you ready for this?”

“What kind of fucking question is that?” 

“Kind of an obvious one?” Zoro shrugs, avoiding Sanji’s bitter gaze. 

“In what possible alternate world could I ever be ready for this? You’re about to fucking get arrested! This is a terrible idea; there are so many things that could go wrong! I mean, I’m here, and I’m obviously not going to flake, but I’m still telling you that this is a really shitty idea.” Sanji shakes his arms out, warming his hands. 

Sanji parks the car in front of a popular local bar, actually not too far from All Blue. He’s currently trying to stop from descending into a fucking nervous wreck because he’d said something before about not wanting his anxiety and stress bleeding over and affecting Zoro. Still, he can feel his heart about to beat out of his chest; blood pounding, nerves racing. It’s a wonder his entire body isn’t shaking from the stress. He really wishes he had Zoro’s stoic exterior attitude – but he really can’t pretend that he’s okay with what’s going on. He’s not going to back down, _he never would_ but he’s definitely not going into this pretending like everything’s sunshine and daisies. 

“Well, I mean, yeah. But the alternative is probably one of us dying. Plus it’s not like I’m getting arrested for real. You know that, right?” Zoro’s voice is slightly muffled as he reaches around the back of the car to pick up a bag. 

“Of fucking course, dumbass. Thank you for that lovely imagery,” Sanji scoffs, working hard not to focus on the thought of _anyone_ dying tonight. But especially not focusing on Zoro not returning home with him after all is said and done. “I’m not an idiot, unlike present company. It’s the principle of the thing! Cops have always weirded me out.” 

“Aw, shut up. It’ll be fine. All you have to do is walk up, talk to Johnny and Yosaku and bail me out. It’ll be fine” 

“UGH. It’s so infuriating when you’re making sense. I hate it. I hate you!” Sanji pounds the steering wheel in frustration. Oops. What was that about keeping a calm, cool exterior again?

“You love me,” Zoro croons as he leans over and gently presses his lips against Sanji’s jawline. 

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t push your fucking luck.”

“Feisty tonight, aren’t we?” 

“You know what? Get the fuck out of my car. Go do your drunken bullshit escapade and I’ll see you in a few hours.” 

“Cheers, dick!” Zoro attempts to wink as he opens the passenger door, forgetting that he doesn’t have good control over the left eye – and instead blinks owlishly, closing both eyes tightly. “You’ll be watching the whole time right? And you’ll show up in the middle like we planned?”

“I’ll be watching you make a fool out of yourself the entire time, yeah.” 

“You’ll love it. I’ll see you soon, ok?” 

“Just go before I change my mind.”

Zoro only chuckles in response but makes no move to close the car door. 

“Move! Quick! There go my fucks! Watch how they just fly away!” Sanji yells as Zoro continues to stand next to the ajar door. He makes a few grandiose movements in the air with his hands. “Better go away before they’re all gone!” 

Zoro rolls his eyes, but closes the door and moves to walk across the street. 

“Bye Mossy! Make good choices! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Sanji yells, rolling down the driver side window as he does so. 

He only gets an obscene gesture in response from the man walking away from him. 

Sanji watches closely as Zoro walks into the bar, and waits a few moments to make sure that he’s not followed inside before pulling the car out from the curb to park in a lot not far away. As he pulls the keys from the ignition, he takes in a deep steadying breath. The next few hours are crucial, but will be slow and there’s no point in Sanji getting worked up if he doesn’t have to be. He carefully lights another cigarette and takes in a deep inhale, feeling the smoke curling around in his lungs. 

His phone ringing startles him, and he has to carefully shuffle around before he’s able to pull his phone from its place in his pocket. He answers it, seeing Nami’s name flash on the caller ID. 

“Hello?”

“Hey Sanji, we’re all in our places set to go. You doing alright?” How sweet of Nami to be worried about him! 

“About as well as can be expected. I just dropped off the moss ball. You all ready for this?” 

“Ready to be finished, that’s for sure.” Nami’s voice sounds steady and clear which helps to further calm Sanji’s frayed nerves. 

“Same. All right, I’m about to walk over there and deal with all of this while I try to find this Brook character. You’re sure he’s easy to find?” Sanji juggles his phone, a cigarette, and the keys in his hands as he extricates himself from the driver’s seat. 

“Trust me, you’ll know Brook when you see him. Just look for the spooky, tall, old man.”

“Will do. Thanks dear. I’ll see you later.” Sanji hangs up the phone. As he pushes his phone into his back pocket he drops a cigarette butt thoroughly crushing it underfoot. He begins the short walk back towards the bar. 

Sanji’s role is relatively easy over the next few hours, but he can’t help but replay every important step in his mind: meet Brook, bump into Zoro, watch Zoro get arrested, spring Zoro from jail, kick Mihawk’s ass. He repeats it over and over in his mind, like some sick mantra or overly complicated to-do list. Meet Brook, bump into Zoro, watch Zoro get arrested, spring Zoro to jail, kick Mihawk’s ass – each step on the list matching with the slow steps he takes as he walks. 

It turns out that Nami was right; Brook is extremely easy to find. Sanji’s not entirely sure what kind of look the guy is going for but it definitely makes him easy to pick out of a crowd. Leaning against the entrance to the same bar Zoro had walked into a half hour earlier, and channeling Slash in his prime, Brook’s purple suit jacket reflects the harsh LED lighting emanating from the street. The eclectic man coolly inhales smoke from a cigarette, the light from which reveals a dark face underneath an afro tied up with a skull-patterned bandanna. 

“Oi, you must be Brook?” Sanji approaches the stranger with no other introduction. 

“Ah! You must be Sanji. How wonderful to make your acquaintance!” The strange man bursts out into a raucous laugh. “I’ve been waiting for so long I was afraid I might disintegrate into just bones!” He laughs again at his own joke. Sanji doesn’t join in. 

“It only took me about half an hour to walk back over here, sorry for making you wait I suppose. Are you ready for tonight?” 

“My least favorite role – playing the informant.” Brook's voice loses some of it’s earlier joviality, and he looks down avoiding Sanji’s gaze. “No, tonight won’t be fun, I’m sure of that at least, but I’m more than willing to help out Zoro and Luffy whenever and wherever possible. They have helped me more than once.”

“Couple of saints they are.” Sanji leans back against the wall next to Brook. Beyond a fantastic aptitude for getting themselves into trouble, it seems as if the whole gang is known for their generosity in helping other people as well. Sanji looks down at the gold watch on his left arm – it’s 8:30pm and the streetlights are glowing in full strength casting shadows along the sidewalks. 

“Ready to get this show on the road, Sanji?” Brook peers down expectedly, and Sanji notices for the first time _exactly_ how tall the other man is. Sanji doesn’t spend much time thinking he’s short – but Brook is easily a foot taller than him, and Sanji feels absolutely minuscule. 

“About as ready as I’ll ever be,” Sanji replies while lightly tapping the toe of his left foot on the ground. He stretches both arms in the air and takes in a deep breath. 

As he moves onto the sidewalk, he clearly sees a flash of green hair bobbing and weaving unsteadily through the multitudes of people walking along on the sidewalk. Sanji grins, this will definitely be his favorite part of the night. 

He walks slowly in the direction of the floating green hair, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He can see Zoro clearly now, and smiles crookedly when they make eye contact. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Brook move to the opposite side of the street, covertly keeping an eye on the situation, and an officer standing not more than 10 feet away. Perfect. 

“Alright, Motherfuckers! Let’s get this party started!” Zoro yells loudly and then as he swaggers down the sidewalk he intentionally walks right into Sanji. “Hey! Dicknose! I’m walking here! What in what do you think you’re doing? You’re in my way!” Zoro roughly pushes Sanji causing him to take a few steps backward. 

“Move along ya damn idiot! You’re the one who ran into me!”

“Who are you calling an idiot, Moron?”

“Fuckwad!” Sanji spits out, glaring at Zoro

“Doucheclown!”

“Wow, really original, you cumstain of a walnut!” 

At this point, Sanji and Zoro have attracted quite a lot of attention from bystanders, and Sanji can see the cop moving quickly in their direction. He looks closely at Zoro, giving the barely imperceptible signal to move towards their grand finale. 

Zoro scoffs and then turns slowly on his heel, acting like he’s moving away. Instead, he reverses his momentum and aims a solid punch at Sanji’s head – a punch that’s almost _too_ convincing for their little charade. 

“Hey! Break it up right now! You, the plant looking one, you’re under arrest.” The cop reaches them shouting as he pulls out a pair of handcuffs. Sanji has to stifle a laugh as he throws his hands up in surrender and steps lightly aside. 

“He threw the first punch man – I’ve just been standing here,” Sanji lies. 

“Yeah, yeah. I saw the whole thing. Get out of here before I decide to throw you in too.”

Sanji doesn’t say anything and instead quickly crosses the street to join Brook at the corner. They watch in silence as Zoro is shoved handcuffed into the back of a police cruiser that quickly pulls away from where it was parked. 

“Well, that was certainly interesting.” Brook is the first to break the silence between then. “Excellent acting – although as a small criticism, I’d suggest you turn down the flirting next time.” 

“Brook… the whole point of tonight is so there _isn’t_ a next time,” Sanji sighs in response. “Wait. What do you mean we were flirting?!” 

“Ah, young love!” Brook only laughs in his weird overly-enthusiastic laugh as they walk back to Sanji’s car. 

 

The drive back to the police station is nothing short of overly stressful for Sanji. He can’t help but run various scenarios in the back of his mind. At the moment, that’s all he feels like he's good for; worrying. Although he knows that Zoro and the crew are definitely strong enough to get through tonight, Sanji isn’t convinced that he is. What if tonight is the breaking point for it all?

“If you’ll pardon my intrusion Sanji, you seem to be thinking incredibly hard. Is there something on your mind you’d like to talk about?” Brook’s low melodic voice cuts sharply through Sanji’s introspection. 

“Ah, I guess I’m just nervous. I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something off about the whole thing tonight,” Sanji mutters. He takes a deep breath as he adjusts his speed driving through the city. 

“It’s normal to be nervous of course, but is there something in particular that you’re worried about? Perhaps someone in particular?” 

Sanji is stunned silent. Brook has hit the nail on the head – it’s not so much that he’s worried about something going wrong tonight, he’s worried about how _someone_ will react tonight. 

“I don’t know what is going to happen tonight. I don’t know how everyone is going to react tonight – and that scares me. What if we get caught up in the middle of something… and something happens that I didn’t want to know about?” Sanji is scared, and admitting it is worse.

“Sanji, coming from someone who is quite literally older than dirt I think what’s important here is to step away from the situation. It’s maybe not the way that you would handle something like this and I highly doubt you would have chosen to get involved. After all this isn’t the type of thing anyone _chooses_ … But it’s important to you and Zoro, right? So, here the only important thing is for you to actually BE here.

But then again, I’m old and probably have a few mothballs rattling around up here!” Brook smacks his forehead with his hand and chuckles quietly to himself. 

Sanji stares ahead into the night, watching the streetlights blur together at the edge of his vision. Brook is right of course, he’s said everything that Sanji’s been mulling over in his head for the past 48 hours. 

“You’re right,” he says. “I just need to be here.” 

Sanji loves Zoro. He’d walk to the ends of the earth for his new friends. He hasn’t known Zoro for very long, just under a year, but this is one of the strongest and most real relationships he’s been in. He doesn’t know if he’d kill for Zoro, mostly because he’s not sure if he could be responsible for murder, but he’s pretty sure he’d get damn close. And really, as he thought long and hard about it, there’s almost nothing that could happen tonight that would change the way Sanji feels about Zoro. 

Eventually, they pull up at the county police station. There are a few lights on outside, but nothing that indicates the station is actually open and staffed – Sanji just hopes that everything will go according to plan. 

Brook and Sanji exit the car and walk slowly through a door bearing a plastic sign stating: Processing. Visitors Must Check In At Front Desk. No Loitering. This Area Monitored By CCTV. Once inside, their footsteps echo across the beige, industrial tile flooring. Further ahead, a guard stands next to a large central desk muttering quietly to himself as he shuffles the items on the desk around. As the door closes behind Sanji and Brooke, the guard looks up and smiles crookedly at them. 

“You boys are here for Roronoa, yeah?” 

Sanji shuffles around awkwardly and thankfully it’s Brook who takes the initiative. 

“That’s right. You must be Johnny?” 

“That’s me. Here,” the guard says as he shoves some paperwork across the desk. “Just initial here and you can walk out with him.” 

“That’s a lot less trouble than I was expecting actually,” Sanji mutters under his breath and he jots down _S.N_ on the appropriate line. 

“Eh Roronoa always acts like he’s a bucket of trouble, but it’s usually never as bad as it seems with him,” the guard, Johnny, says. He reaches back towards a group of keys attached to his hip and then motions for Brook and Sanji to follow him as he leads them down a short hallway and through two locked doors. 

Once through the second door Sanji can see Zoro sitting in what must be serving as holding cell, though he assumes that wasn’t the original purpose of the room as there are no bars of any kind and Zoro has one arm handcuffed to the chair he’s sitting in. 

“Long time no see curly brow.” Zoro smiles crookedly as Johnny walks in and relieves Zoro of his restraints. 

“If only it’d been longer,” Sanji quips back, reverting to his habit of hiding his anxiety behind sarcasm. “You know, that last punch was a little harder than strictly necessary.” 

“And here I thought you could take whatever I dish out.” Zoro stands and stretches, presumably to relieve some of the stiffness from sitting while handcuffed. 

“I think Sanji can ‘take’ just about anything from you Zoro,” Brook guffaws in a highly inappropriate manner. Sanji has to pause to give the creepy old perv a dirty look. 

“Alright – let’s get moving we’ve wasted too much time here.” Sanji motions them all to follow as he leads the way back toward the station’s front desk. 

“Zoro-san, I have to make a phone call,” Brook excuses himself and saunters off away from where Zoro and Sanji are standing. 

“Who’s Brook calling?” Sanji leans back and rests lightly against Zoro’s broad chest as they stand next to the car. He breathes in deeply, inhaling Zoro’s scent as he does so and relaxing into the warmth behind him. 

“Someone on Kuma’s end, to let them know the pick up’s been made. Have you been able to get in touch with Usopp tonight?” Zoro wraps his arms around Sanji’s waist, letting his chin drop onto the blonde’s shoulder. They stand like that for a few moments, centering themselves in each other’s presence. 

“Yeah. I talked to him earlier.” Sanji slowly untangles his body from their unorthodox embrace. He turns around to face Zoro, “though I guess we’re at that point where I need to radio in with Nami.” 

“You do that. I’m going to check in with Brook, ok?” Sanji watches as Zoro walks away from him. He pulls his phone from his pocket and lights a cigarette before he dials the first contact in his recent calls list. 

“Hey Sanji, everything good?” 

“All according to plan so far. How are things holding up on your end?” Sanji switches the phone to his left hand and pulls the cigarette out of his mouth to exhale slowly. 

“Well… you should talk to Usopp about that,” Nami says hesitantly, and then Sanji hears some scuffling over the phone as Nami hands the phone over to someone else. He catches little bits of arguing and a frustrated scoff clearly comes from Usopp before his voice bursts loudly into Sanji’s ear. 

“Hey, listen… I know the job was just to distract Kuma, but I might have gotten a little excited and hacked his driver’s GPS.” Usopp’s tone is simultaneously hesitant and distracted, in a way unique to the long nosed man.

“Wait, I’m sorry, you what?” Sanji drops his finished cigarette and absentmindedly crushes it underfoot while he tries to focus in on whatever chaos is surely happening on the other end of the line. 

“I may or may not have installed a hypothetical virus on the GPS that definitely is NOT called the Zoro Virus where all output directions are reversed. I also DID NOT,” and here Usopp’s voice stresses his words just a little more than might be necessary and Sanji begins to worry just how much trouble they are going to be in, “find a backdoor into Kuma’s local network. Nor did I potentially download some illegal blueprints that were not on his computer to begin with. But I MIGHT have emailed the entirety of his hard drive to a certain lieutenant.” 

“Usopp, I didn’t understand a single word of that.” Sanji thinks he caught some obscure reference to Zoro’s loss of direction – and how if you could design a GPS based on his navigational skills, or lack thereof, it would make a great gag gift. He didn’t quite understand what Usopp was babbling about with the computer, but if Usopp managed to do his job than it can’t be all bad…right? 

“Uh, Kuma and his driver have been wandering around town for about an hour and also everything that was ever downloaded on his local internet connection is now sitting in the inbox of Smoker?” Usopp speaks slowly and clearly, obviously practiced in the art of explaining things to the simpleminded. Sanji is simultaneously grateful and pissed off about that. 

“Ah. Well, why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

“That’s _exactly_ what I said when you asked.” 

“No, it’s really not. Ok, so we’re good?” Sanji asks, he wants to make sure that whatever Usopp and the rest of them got sent to do was finished and accomplished correctly. Everything hinges on having zero kinks in the plan. If one facet fails, they’ll all go down. 

“If by ‘good’ you mean potentially going to jail for breaking and entering, illegal searching-slash-hacking, and possibly for aiding and abetting vehicular manslaughter, then yeah; we’re golden,” Usopp says slightly fearfully. 

“Besides the obvious of course,” Sanji jokes into his phone’s receiver. 

Zoro startles him as he and Brook shuffle up next to Sanji unexpectedly. He mouths a simple ‘what’s up?’ and Sanji puts the call on speaker so everyone is aware of what’s happening. 

“Usopp you’re on speaker, it’s me, Zoro, and Brook. So if you’ve already managed to get all of the computer stuff done then we don’t need to meet you there, do we?” The plan was originally to find a way to distract Kuma, mess around in his house – with Zoro’s “delivery” serving as an entryway, and then take care of putting the underboss out of action. With Usopp’s hacking skills and surprise enthusiasm, Sanji starts thinking they may be able to cut out a step. 

“I’m gonna pass the phone over to Nami, she seems to have a better idea of what’s happen--” Usopp’s last sentence ends unnecessarily in a higher pitch tone and is cut off as Nami apparently yanks back the phone. 

“So as soon as Brook made that call about 10 minutes ago, the entire house here went into red alert. What I didn’t know,” Nami pauses exasperatedly, “was that Franky had cooked up some harebrained scheme that involved locking out every single person out of the compound. So we’re the only people inside the house right now. I don’t think you guys need to come here at all.” 

“Nami,” Zoro’s voice rumbles with power over Sanji’s shoulder, “finish up there, make sure that there’s absolutely nothing left in that house that’s useful for Mihawk, and then meet us at the warehouse.” 

That… is a huge change in plans. That is a whole new plan. Sanji turned around to stare in confusion at Zoro. 

“Zoro, wait are you sure about that? That leaves a lot of room for something to go wrong.” 

“Tonight’s the night. I don’t really care about how it gets done, I just want this all to be finished.” Zoro’s eyes flashed in the darkness and Sanji could feel the raw power and emotion rolling off of him. He’s right – one way or the other, this whole mess is over tonight. In the end, it doesn’t really matter how. 

Headlights sweep past them as a car pulls into the parking lot and pulls smoothly into a space near Sanji’s car. 

“I sent Robin over there since we got our bases covered a little earlier than expecting… oh wait I hear a car is that her?” Nami’s voice rings from the phone lying nearly forgotten in Sanji’s hand. 

The car indeed belongs to Robin, and she neatly steps out of the driver’s side.

“Hello, boys. Gonna show a girl a good time?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you mean I haven't updated in over two months? All lies and slander. 
> 
>  
> 
> Really, though, I got so caught up in work and finals and graduation that I had no time to write. Hopefully, the next chapter will be much sooner rather than later. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Writing the ending of this work has become fun again (; 
> 
> I have an OP tumblr now! Feel free to drop in! --> peppernine-me.tumblr.com 
> 
>  
> 
> As always, let me know what you're thinking about in the box below!


	24. The Cause, the Kid, the Course, the Charm, and the Curse

“Kuraigana Wine Distribution? THIS is the place?”

“Mihawk actually runs a legitimate wine distribution business – it covers up his more illicit activities and allows him to launder any income his organization brings in. This is definitely the right place.” Robin’s intellectual and cool voice cuts in from the back of the car. 

“Great.” Sanji shudders in both anticipation and with a nervous feeling about how the night will end. “There goes one of my favorite hobbies. So, uh listen,” Sanji continues,“It’s still pretty early in the night, do you guys normally pull your shenanigans early and then just go home?” 

“Some us have day jobs to get to,” Brook cackles from the back in an apparent joke no one else finds funny. 

“Best just to get it done,” Zoro ‘s cool drawl echoes throughout the car as everyone falls silent. Sanji looks over to see the other man’s hands clenched tightly in his lap, his knuckles almost white with effort. No other emotions crack through the stoic exterior, but Sanji knows that Zoro is enraged with inner turmoil. 

It’s easy to slip inside, just a matter of breaking a chain bolt on the door and physically redirecting a few security cameras. They’re not exactly being subtle, but then again it’s hard to imagine that their appearance is unexpected. 

The front of the warehouse is deserted and eerily silent, their footsteps echo across the wide lobby space. The hairs on the back of Sanji’s neck prickle uncomfortably. They’re being watched. 

“I think it’s best if we split up from here. Brook and I will walk the perimeter and wait for the others to show up,” Robin whispers softly after tapping Sanji on the shoulder. “You two keep moving forward, I have a feeling Zoro will need you by his side tonight.” 

Sanji watches as the rest of the party slinks back into the shadows of the warehouse. In front of him, Zoro marches determinedly forward. Sanji has no choice but to follow. 

Zoro leads him down a long, narrow hallway. Painted in muted beige with flickering overhead lights, the hallway is well hidden around a corner towards the back of the building. It would be difficult to find it unless you knew precisely where it was. Sanji supposes that’s the whole point of things like ‘secret passages,’ and ‘warehouses where local gangs meet up.’ Several doors exit off of the hallway, but Zoro relentless pushes forward until he stops suddenly, causing Sanji to bump into him. 

The door itself is unremarkable, and no different that the others they had already passed. But from the way Zoro is staring at the door, in a manner befitting some telekinetic dismantling of the door’s very structure, obviously this is the next turning point. 

“Zoro, you ok? You wanna tell me what you’re thin-“

“Cook, I know you think that I get lost all the time,” Zoro interrupts, his voice heavy with emotion and interspersed with deep breaths, “and that I’m going crazy when I say that the streets and buildings move. But right now I need you to trust that I know exactly where I’m going. For the next 15 minutes I need you to step exactly where I step and don’t say a word, deal?”

“Zoro, you’re not making any sense. What does that even mean?”   
“Just... follow me exactly. Step where I step and don’t question it.” Zoro looks Sanji directly in the eyes, somehow humbled and pleading while his eyes glint with determination and a dangerous hunger Sanji has spent the last year pretending doesn’t exist. “Please.”

“Ok. I trust you.” 

It’s beyond true; Sanji isn’t in charge anymore, he’s done pretending like he has any place in matters. He’s only here because of Zoro, because he loves Zoro. His role is important in the end game, but it doesn’t mean he has an opinion or an intelligent thought to provide. This is a part of Zoro’s life and he knows it best, Sanji can only play to his own personal strengths. 

The door swings open slowly and silently. No noise comes from beyond the hallway they are currently in, but Sanji can’t shake the feeling that they’re not alone. Just because he can’t see anyone else doesn’t mean he thinks he’s safe. He tentatively follows Zoro through the doorway into another nearly identical hallway, but one that veers sharply to the left about 30 feet ahead. 

Zoro steps forward in a carefully in a specific choreographed manner. Every placement of foot is precise and seemingly well rehearsed. Sanji cautiously repeats every stride, trying hard to mimic every graceful movement of Zoro’s perfectly. He keeps his eyes trained on Zoro’s feet, though the awkward swinging of the swords tied to Zoro’s hip distracts him. 

It’s a strange feeling, because he doesn’t understand the point of it all, but it’s not like he’s going to deliberately fuck up the whole thing just because his base instinct is to do the opposite of whatever Zoro says. He’s smart enough to realize that he doesn’t understand all of the forces at play in front of him. Until he does, he’s been relegated to playing support. 

He images the ground before him covered in flour and his only goal is to make it appear as if only one person was walking around. After several turns, following the seemingly impossible maze the hallways have begun to form, Sanji begins to doubt that Zoro knows where he’s going. He tries to believe that Zoro knows best in this alien situation, but it’s difficult when the turns they take lead in no particular direction. It’s not until a loud clanking noise aggressively gets Sanji’s attention that he realizes the severity of the situation: Zoro and Sanji are trapped in a labyrinth where the walls move. 

“It’s a bit trite, with the shadows, and walls moving, and whatnot,” his voice is surprisingly muffled despite the long hallways near him. Is there anything about tonight that will seem real?

He hadn’t realized at first – the clicking of walls quietly changing their position was subtle and easy to miss. If the wall behind him hadn’t shut like a door behind him he may not have noticed in the first place. It’s a brilliant trap. It’s a kind of maze where only the loyal and practiced are able to navigate their way safely through. Sanji also begins to understand Zoro’s lack of direction slightly better. If he built his internal compass while working in a building where the walls are continuously moving, it makes sense that he would be unable to walk down a straight and narrow path. Sanji begins to work on the mental image of this new version of Zoro he’s been introduced to. 

If he pays attention now, he can hear heaving objects being dragged across the floor and soft snaps where walls now must be locking into place. Zoro, however, shows no sign of stopping or confusion and Sanji is left to dutifully follow. After a few more minutes of seemingly random turns, he notices that the hallways are gradually becoming brighter and Zoro is picking up his pace like he knows he’s getting closer to his goal. 

“Almost there now,” Zoro whispers under his breath. If Sanji hadn’t been acutely aware of every little sound in their vicinity, he might have missed it. 

 

When they walk into Mihawk’s office, their arrival is treated as no surprise. The man himself sits in a large leather wingback chair, angled slightly away from the doorway such that the vast majority of the room is within eyesight. The back wall of the office, as Sanji supposes it must be, is replaced by tall glass windows. The bright lights of the city around them reflect strangely around the room. 

“Hello Zoro.”

Mihawk’s voice is not what Sanji expected. He mistakenly thought that the man who was the cause of so much pain in his, and Zoro’s, life would be more imposing, more intimidating. Instead, Mihawk is just a man – a man who sounds bored and impatient, but with a tone that might make one suddenly conscious of their mortality. 

“Don’t you dare ‘hello’ me like we’re in business sitting across the table.” Zoro’s deep growl cuts through the sudden silence in the room. “You know why I’m here. You know what I want.”

“Curt as always. I’m well aware of what you _think_ you want Zoro. You’ve always wanted a family. You had one while you were here, you know. But look now; you’ve brought the Noir kid here, burst into my office with no demands – just your usual lack of grace. Grow up kid. I thought I’d at least taught you something during your time with me.” 

“You took EVERYTHING from me! I’m done! And now you have the audacity to even pretend you know what I’ve been through?! Fuck you, Mihawk. I’m through letting you terrorize me or the other people in my life!” Zoro’s unbridled rage leaks through his tone. Standing next to him, Sanji can feel Zoro’s muscles tense, and the anger and misery rolling off him in waves. Sanji places a calming hand on Zoro’s shoulder, _though really, neither of them are suitably calm here _, in an attempt to stop Zoro from rashly lunging at the man in front of them.__

__His actions are quickly noticed by Mihawk. “A wise choice there. Sanji, isn’t it?” There’s a slight pause in his sentence, as though he’s recalling the name from a distant memory. “Tell me, how exactly did you find your way up here?”_ _

__There’s something about the tenor of Mihawk’s voice that forces an answer through Sanji’s lips._ _

__“I’m sorry? How the fuck do you know me?”_ _

__“Oh believe me, Mr. Noir, I know far more than you could possible even imagine. There’s no escaping me.”_ _

__“Fuck your mind games! I told you, I’m done!” Zoro interrupts, lunging forward to slam his fists on the giant wooden desk separating him and Mihawk. “You killed my sister, you’ve tried to kill me, you’ve threatened to kill Sanji and I won’t step aside in fear anymore! I’ve proved my strength over and over and over again. Tonight you’re gonna lose this little family you’re so proud of. I’ll go further if I have to. But after tonight, it’s OVER, Mihawk!”_ _

__“Zoro, wait!” Sanji quickly moves over to step in front of Zoro and then pushes him back roughly. He moves to face Mihawk, this man who has been the cause of more pain and suffering than Sanji can possibly comprehend. He slowly withdraws a lighter and a cigarette pack from his left pocket. “I’m gonna ask this one more time,” he says coolly, voice muffled slightly as his lips move around the cigarette between them. “How the fuck do you know me?”_ _

__Close behind him Zoro is panting in frustration and unbridled fury, but for now all Sanji can focus on is the sneer on the face in front of him._ _

__“Oh, Zeff and I go way back. Although, I feel like I must apologize for that…shall we say, unfortunate incident with Krieg. Bastard got what was coming to him in the end, so all’s well that nearly ends well.”_ _

__“ ‘All’s well?’ “ Sanji chuckles darkly. “I nearly fucking died because of that son of a bitch, and you have the balls to say ‘all’s well?’ “_ _

__“Yes, well. Incidents like that sort aren’t as few and far between as we all like to pretend. What’s that quote? ‘One death is a tragedy, one million is a statistic?’ The news never quite reads how,” and here Mihawk’s hands gesture in the air punctuating every word in his sentence, “ ‘man singlehandedly saves multiple children from poverty and destitution,’ but of course, playing the unsung hero gets boring in the end.”  
“You bastard!” Sanji lunges across the desk, only to find a small, sharp knife pressed neatly against his jugular vein. _ _

__“Tsk, and here I thought the famous Zeff might have actually taught you some manners after all. You don’t belong in this fight.”_ _

__Sanji very nearly does not see the sword flying directly towards him. He is however, fairly certain that Mihawk doesn’t see it at all._ _

__As he falls backwards, Sanji catches Mihawk turn, ever so slightly, to barely dodge the path of the katana soaring through the air. The sword thuds heavily into the wood of the desk where Sanji has been leaning moments ago and, at the same time, Sanji’s head hits the ground as his hands were unable to completely stop his downward descent._ _

__He hits the ground with a dull thud and a muffled ‘ugh,’ followed by obnoxious ringing in his ears. His vision clouds for a few moments, in which he follows the shape of Zoro springing over his body and colliding with the desk._ _

__Things are fuzzy for several moments. He sees Zoro hold a sword in each hand, waving the katana through the air with a deadly grace. He sees Mihawk conjure up another sword out of seemingly nowhere and press back against Zoro’s attacks. The scent of blood and sweat begins to permeate the air, but Sanji can’t tell who’s been hit._ _

__He manages to push himself up to his knees, breathing in deeply as he tries to orient himself in the large room. Zoro and Mihawk has moved to an adjacent room, Sanji could hear the sounds of their fight drifting clearly towards him; the sound of ringing steel as two swords clashed, grunts and yells of exertions. From his kneeling position Sanji can’t tell who’s winning._ _

__As the last of the dizziness fades, Sanji stands thanking his lower body strength for support as he runs towards the sounds of fighting. Breathing hard he rushes into the next room over only to see the two men nearly embracing, metal between them, with arm muscles flexed in exertion neither quite gaining on the other. Sanji can see the rage in Zoro’s eyes, his strength being pushed near maximum as he tries to gain in position on the other man. Mihawk appears likewise as stressed, though nowhere near disadvantaged yet._ _

__Slowly, and then almost quicker than his eye can catch it, Mihawk manages to push Zoro back with a loud grunt. Zoro is caught unbalanced and he topples to the ground only managing to save himself with crossed swords above his chest. Mihawk is nearly straddling Zoro, trying to press for advantage. Sanji quickly runs in, desperate to help and to free Zoro._ _

__The ball of his foot neatly connects with Mihawk’s ribcage and Sanji uses all of the strength in his lower limb to push him off of Zoro’s prone form. He has the element of surprise as neither Zoro nor Mihawk seem aware of his presence until Sanji has neatly pushed himself into the middle of the fight. The strength of Sanji’s kick sends Mihawk nearly flying off of Zoro and he lands to the floor a few feet away with a muffled groan._ _

__Lightning fast, Zoro jumps to standing position and rushes over to lock his swords against Mihawk’s. He seems to gain an advantage from his standing position, and Sanji watches as, almost as if in slow motion, Zoro neatly disarms their antagonist by way of sending his sword sliding across the floor. Zoro presses his advantage with a katana pressed neatly against the bare neck in front of him._ _

__“It’s over.”_ _

__Sanji can see what is about to happen before it does, and for the second time that night, he steps into the fight._ _

__“Zoro stop! You don’t want to do this,” Sanji begs, voice low and gentle. “There are some lines you can’t uncross!”_ _

__Zoro doesn’t respond only snarls, as he weighs the decision in front of him. Sanji can see the muscles ripple across Zoro’s neck and his jaw tighten in resolve._ _

__He doesn’t want to see this wild and crazed side of Zoro. He doesn’t mind admitting that the man he’s in love with in dangerous; he’s come to terms with that fact already. What he doesn’t want is for Zoro to walk down a road he can’t follow. He won’t let Zoro do something they both might regret in the future. It’s easy enough to say that they’ve been through some awful shit in their lives; hell they’ve both lived with shadows on their backs and in their footsteps. But this feral man is not the Zoro Sanji knows and loves. This man with blood boiling and eyes full of rage is not the Zoro he’s intimately familiar with, and Sanji can’t stand to see that transformation. He won’t live with someone traumatized and damaged; Sanji may not be good at many things but he likes to think he’s good at knowing what people need. Killing Mihawk will not bring Zoro the solace he seeks_ _

__“I’ve already crossed that line!” Zoro snarls in response. It’s nothing new. Sanji has known from the beginning that Zoro was dangerous._ _

__“Then wait until it really matters.”_ _

__It doesn’t matter if Zoro kills someone in the end. What matters is that he makes the act count. This act of retribution, this deed of revenge will not bring Kuina back. It won’t bring a sense of peace to their house. It won’t help in the end; Sanji’s only hope is to talk him down.  
Zoro breaks eye contact with Mihawk, turning his hard eyes onto Sanji instead. His sword does not move. _ _

__“Zoro, his death isn’t equal to Kuina’s memory. Don’t you want to do better by her? Honor her death! Make this right by her. If you kill him now, someone else will pop up in his place. There will be another kid pulled off the streets who will spend his whole life not knowing how to live. Let this go.” Heavy breaths punctuate Sanji’s last words. He’s exhausted from tonight’s ordeal. He’s emotionally spent from this entire nightmare. He wants to go home, and he wants Zoro beside him._ _

__“You’ve done it, you’ve broken free and saved countless others. Put this in the hands of someone who can make it a lesson for others. Please, just stop and come home with me.” Tears fill the corner of Sanji’s eyes but he’ll be damned if he lets a single drop roll down his face. He’s been strong all night, he can do this, he can pretend for Zoro. Because with Zoro, it’s not really pretending after all._ _

__“I-“ Zoro starts, “I need this to be over.” He turns back to the man on the ground in front of him._ _

__“It is.”_ _

__Sanji slowly steps towards Zoro. He wants to touch him. He wants to offer the physical comfort and support he knows Zoro is in search of. Obviously he can’t provide that right now, but the closer he can get to Zoro, the more easily he can get Zoro to drop his guard._ _

__Zoro’s eyes close tightly, and he swallows deeply._ _

__Sanji sees Zoro raise his left arm, sword still neatly in palm and he fears the worst._ _

__He sees Mihawk slump to the ground unconscious and stares in horror at Zoro, only to see the katana he was once holding reversed in orientation in his palm. Zoro had brought the handle of the blade neatly down on Mihawk’s skull, knocking the man unconscious but not killing him._ _

__Sanji lets out a muffled sob of relief and runs to Zoro, putting his own hands over the other man’s._ _

__“Come on, Zoro. Let’s go home.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bless all of you who are still following. We're almost done! The main phase is over now, I hope you all enjoyed the ride - there's just a few more ends to wrap up. 
> 
> Massive thanks to everyone for all of your continued comments - I do this for fun, but also for y'all. 
> 
> Feel free to hit me up at my tumblr: peppernine-me.tumblr.com !!


	25. Bound by Love, Loss, and Strength

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This final chapter was beta'd by the wonderful and awe-inspiring wordsdear

**One Year Later **.****

Sanji sighs deeply as he puts the last of the dishes away and carefully wipes his hands on a dishrag before hanging it on the stove handle. He surveys his kitchen, double-checking that all of the surfaces are clean and sterilized, no equipment or food has been left out, and that All Blue is ready to open bright and early the next morning. 

No longer just a catering shop, All Blue has blossomed into a popular café finding a niche in serving healthy, locally sourced food. Sanji has enjoyed his rise in popularity, and takes pride in carefully crafting monthly menus and customizing meals. He’s finally doing exactly what he loves; the success is just an added bonus. Today had been especially busy, Sunday mornings always were in the food industry but All Blue has a special Brunch menu and Sanji has his regular customers to cater to. 

He has a slight crick in his neck from yelling out orders for his new team, and running around making sure everything was running smoothly. His feet ache and he’s itching for a long bath and a glass of wine. He switches off all of the lights in the shop, and carefully locks the front door. He reaches in his coat pockets and pulls out a lighter and a cigarette. He gazes fondly at the bright calligraphy painted across the front window – a recent gift from Usopp. He wants to go home, to put his feet up and relax, but he has a few stops to make before that. 

He shrugs his shoulders in an attempt to ease the stiffness in his back, feeling the tight pull of fabric as his shirt stretches. It’s mid January and the weather is frigid, the heat from the sun barely enough to keep the days from being unreasonably cold. Sanji tucks one hand deep into his pocket and his chin underneath his scarf as he walks away from the shop enjoying the feeling of the sun on his face and the smoke in his lungs. 

It’s not a far walk, but the wind chill makes it seem longer than necessary. He makes a game out of kicking snowballs and broken icicles, enjoying how the ice makes them spin in unexpected directions. 

The gate to the cemetery is shut, though Sanji knows from experience that it’s more for appearances than anything else. He carefully reaches over, blindly feeling for the latch and then pushing inwards. He takes care not to let it slam behind him, pausing to gently close it behind him. He’s finished with his cigarette now, and he stubs out the dull red embers on the bottom on his shoe then placing the butt in his pocket. 

He wanders around the various headstones admiring the way the light casts strange geometric shadows over the grass. All around are flowers in various states of decomposition, some that were obviously placed today and some that are little more than blackened stems. His feet know the way to the grave instinctually now, and soon he’s standing with arms crossed in front of it. Absentmindedly he brushes off some ice that’s crusted on top of the headstone. Later this week he’ll be back to make sure it’s not entirely buried under the snow. 

“It’s been a year now since the fight. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His voice is soft and low, but it carries on the icy wind across the cemetery. He coughs awkwardly and then speaks quieter. 

“I miss you. That’s surprising coming from me I know, but… things just aren’t the same anymore. I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately, I’ve been busy with the café and everything.” He scuffs his feet awkwardly on the frozen ground and clears his throat, though he’s startled by the loudness of the sound. As chatty as Sanji can be, he’s always had a hard time talking idly about feelings. Voicing his emotions to a piece of rock with the name of a loved one engraved on it doesn’t make things any easier either. 

“I know, you’d probably say I’m working too hard. But that’s just me.” 

“I had a dream last night actually, about the whole fight. The whole situation was just really bizarre. I still can’t believed it’s a real thing that happened. It’s like, you look back on your life and wonder, ‘how the hell did I get myself tied up in shit like that?’ I don’t know if it’s the weather or because I know that it has been a year, but I’ve been distracted all day. Sorry if I’m not much for company.”

****

 

_It had been too easy._

_Somehow during the entire night, neither of them had stopped to think about how they’d manage to get their hands on Kuma’s computer, how they’d walked through the front doors of Mihawk’s office, or how Sanji and Zoro had come face to face with their antagonist in such a short time span._

_Sanji can remember how warm Zoro’s hand had felt in his, how both of their breathing was ragged from exertion._

_“You ok?” He’d quietly asked, as if in fear of disturbing their stolen solace._

_“I will be.”_

_They’d walked hand in hand through Mihawk’s office again, sparing no extra sight for the pieces of broken furniture strewn all over the floor._

_Then, chaos._

_There were other people waiting for them at the front. A small horde of loyal followers with the goal of making Sanji and Zoro’s life difficult stood between them and apparent freedom._

_Sanji’s blood was boiling for a fight. All of the anger, all of the rage he’d been nursing since the beginning of the night was overflowing. He was ready to fight for what he wanted._

_Beside him, he could feel Zoro tensing up, katana at the ready._

_Behind him, Mihawk’s low laughter, and an uneasy suspicion that something was going to go terribly wrong._

 

****

The wind picks up and Sanji cups his hands in front of his face to blow gently on them, letting the little bit of warmth tide him over. Flurries start to fall around him, though whether they’re carried by the wind or are falling from the dark clouds overhead, Sanji can’t tell. 

He sighs deeply, having quickly run out of things to say. Although these little visits are beginning to become routine, the conversations never get easier for him. 

“It’s going to snow tonight. I’ll be back next week, yeah?” 

He stiffly, but fondly, brushes some dirt and ice off of a shallow ‘Z’ carved into the stone then turns away and walks out of the cemetery without looking back. A few yards ahead is a black car parked and running, just as promised. 

Sanji opens up the passenger door, and slides blissfully into the heated interior. He leans over the console in the middle of the vehicle to press a chaste kiss on the driver’s cheek. 

“Thanks for picking me up.” 

“How’d it go?” Zoro asks. 

“Same as usual. It’s a pain in the ass to visit the old man but it’s nice. Although it’s cold as fuck right now.” Sanji briskfully rubs his palms together and shivers as he adjusts to the new temperature in the car. 

“Nami says the storm is due to hit at about 8 tonight. You got everything you need at home? I don’t think we’ll be able to get to the store if we don’t go now.” Zoro checks the rearview mirror, as does Sanji out of habit, and maneuvers the car out into the road. 

“Yeah, the food and cocoa are already made. I’m done with just about everything, and if any of your friends want something else they can fucking get it themselves.” 

“They’re your friends too.” 

“Not tonight,” Sanji sighs. “Fuck, I’m so tired.” He sinks deeply into the heated seat beneath him. He chances closing his eyes for a few seconds, anything to decompress after a long, hard day.

“We don’t have to go.” Zoro’s voice is soft and quiet, just raised enough to be heard over the squeal of the tires as they drive over packed ice and snow.

Sanji cracks open one eye to stare at the green haired man in the driver’s seat. “You plan on telling that to the rest of the crew?”

It’s a nice thought, but not one they’ll get away with. They play too integral a part in the crew, and Luffy’s incessant whining and shining joviality is hard to ignore. 

“Well imagine: we show up, have a little fun, some food, pour too much schnapps in the hot cocoa, and then head home for some alternate cold weather activities.” Zoro’s low voice paints a pretty picture of fun things to come later in the evening. 

“That’s a damn good argument.”

Sanji lets his mind ruminate over the thought of a warm night curled up in bed; how his naked chest would feel against the other man piled under layers of blankets. Or no blankets. With Zoro’s space heater capacity and Sanji’s inability to sleep if the temperature isn’t right it’s more likely they’ll end up on complete opposite sides of the bed with covers strewn on the floor. 

“You know I love you, right?” Zoro voices the question in muted, low tones and when Sanji opens his eyes Zoro is studiously not making eye contact. 

“What’s got into you all of a sudden?” He sits up, no longer slouching into the seat, and leans towards the driver’s seat and Zoro. This sudden, unprompted show of affection is unlike the normally taciturn and stoic man. 

“Nothing, I’ve just been thinking about you all day.” 

“Sap.” 

“Jerk.” 

“Asshat.”

“Douche-canoe” 

“Oh that’s creative.” 

“Hmm thanks, I made it up just for you,” Zoro says with a smirk on his face as he leans over to grasps Sanji’s hand. 

It’s not a far drive back to their place. Zoro parks directly in front of the apartment door, leaving the car idling while Sanji quickly runs inside to change clothes and grab the food he’d prepared for the party. 

He tosses his keys in a bowl near the table, being careful not to trip over the rug in the living room that tastefully covers some indelicate stains from an accident involving a motorcycle and some well placed bullets that happened what seems like eons ago. 

In their shared kitchen, he expertly rustles through the refrigerator pulling out everything he’d prepped for tonight’s party: 2 large pots, one each of hot cocoa and stew; a large thawed hunk of beef shoulder; and a wrapped bag of dough that will be transformed shortly into bread bowls. It’s almost enough to feed an army, but with the crowd he’s preparing for it’ll hopefully be just the right amount. He pauses; debating whether to throw in the bottle of wine he’d been saving but passes in the end. He’ll keep that for another cold winter night when he’s not catering for his friends.

With everything set out in the kitchen, he moves to the bedroom for a quick change of clothes. He chuckles and scoffs as he steps around their unmade bed. For as long as they’ve been together, Sanji has yet to see Zoro make a bed. The other man just doesn’t get the point, and while Sanji likes the look and feel of a tidy room he does quiet enjoy the feeling of just being able to fall into a bed. 

The closet has too many clothes in it, though that’s mainly Sanji’s fault. He quickly slips out of his work ensemble and into a much more comfortable combination of a wool Henley sweater and jeans. He tosses his clothes in the hamper and for good measure picks up some of Zoro’s clothes as well, _like a rational person, not some slob_. 

Wrapping a scarf around his neck, he walks out of the bedroom and promptly into Zoro. 

“What’s taking so long, Cook? You get lost in your own home?” 

“I’m not the one you should be worried about getting lost. Now shut up and help me carry all of this shit to the car,” Sanji says, without much acidity to his words. His softly pecks Zoro on the cheek and leads the way back towards the kitchen. 

Carefully armed with food, and drinks Zoro and Sanji both head out of the front door, Sanji balancing everything for a quick moment to lock the door behind him. 

He pauses, and deeply breathes in the chilly air as he watches the man in front of him load everything into their car. 

“Come on Curly-Brow, we’re gonna be late!” Zoro yells. When Sanji doesn’t respond Zoro walks back over towards him. “Hey, you ok over here?” 

“Yeah.” Sanji smiles. “Everything is perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOO. 
> 
> We're done. 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who's been reading since the beginning, and to all of the new people. You've all suffered through this with me and I'm so incredibly grateful. This journey has been amazing from start to finish. I feel like that bit on a PBS show, where they thank "Viewer's like you. Thank you!" 
> 
> I'm working on 2 other fics right now, you definitely haven't seen the last of me. 
> 
> Lots of love and well wishing your way -x.


End file.
